If Only
by JoJo Jones
Summary: What if Arthur, Agatha, and Dashiell weren't the only precogs? As John Anderton's own precrime system turns it's back on him and frames him for a murder he will discover more than just a glitch in the system. Please read and review, thank you!
1. Chapter 1: Murder Marks the Spot

**Disclaimer:** _I do not own any characters or parts from the movie "Minority Report" nor am I affiliated with the writers, directors, producers, ect. I am not making a profit from this story._

**P/L:** It is the year 2054. A so-called "Precrime division" is working around Washington DC. Its purpose is to use the precog(nitive) potential of three genetically altered humans to prevent murders. But soon a Federal agent comes snooping around headquarters in search of flaws. Human flaws. And the main man on his list is John Anderton, a firm believer in the system, that is, before it came after him. With the help of one of his closest friends, Diana Warren, Anderton has to prove that he's innocent, even if it means that the system will be shut down. But there's a secret that's being hidden from them all, and it's right in front of him.

* * *

**Ch. 1: Murder Marks the Spot**

_The images are shooting through my head, so short, incomplete. It's a nightmare, how can they call this a gift? I try to fight the previsions, my foresight, but I can't. Where I am, they won't let me. The fear that runs through my veins…the fear that's always existed there…will it stop? Can I end this gift? I'm tired of homicide murders. I want a break, I want to be free…_

_I see a hand pick up a pair of scissors…the face of Abraham Lincoln. The scissors poke through the eyes. A newspaper boy rides by on a recumbent bike, a newspaper hits the ground. Snip, snip goes the scissors…_

_But I can't leave until the mystery's solved. Until I can rest that my mother's murderer will be placed behind bars. No one knows the way I feel…they wouldn't believe me. Can I believe myself? Yes…_

_There's a man's face watching—handsome, muscular. A kid's face is behind him. Left, right goes the kid's face. I see the back of the stranger and snip goes the scissors…_

_Incomplete…that's how I am. Secrets swell within my head. I can't tell though…no…never tell. They'd never let me go…they'd keep me under surveillance always. Freak…that's what it feels like. An outcast._

_A woman admires herself in a mirror. Water runs into a bathtub. A hand reaches for a doorknob. I go through it, the door is left open. A flight of stairs…snip…_

_The woman unbuttons her blouse as the strange man watches from a doorway. Up the stairs we head. The bedroom door's slightly ajar…snip, snip…_

_But I will solve the mystery…I promise I will. I'll do whatever it takes. Maybe the pre-cops will see…they will see. But, the question is, can they?_

_The woman smiles. Her and the stranger collapse together onto the bed. Another man's face rises over them now as he watches. The woman looks over her lover's shoulder, sees the face and sits up…the man by the bed is smaller than the lover, older, but enraged. He raises the scissors…snip, snip, snip…_

"_You know how blind I am without them," the smaller man said placing his glasses on his face._

"_Howard don't cry." His wife told him sadly._

_The woman screams as the man stabs her in the throat with the scissors. Her chest moves rapidly as blood flows out and she struggles for breath. The muscular man tries to run for safety in the bathroom, but gets stabbed. Snip…_

_Bloody scissors bounce open onto the bathroom floor._

_Blood-red water overflows onto the floor. The smaller man's wife lays dead on the bed, her eyes, lifeless unmoving._

_Soon, people will know the truth about my mother's death. They will see…_

_Murderer…_

_----------------_

Danny Witwer glanced curiously past the corner of one of the many halls as he explored the Precrime Headquarters. As an investigator for the Fed he was assigned to check and see exactly how Precrime worked, and if it was stable enough to go nation wide. His jaws moved up and down as he chewed a piece of gum. Walking through the clear glass halls he stopped and looked over to a door to his right, his hazel brown eyes scanning a sign that said "Lounge". As he peered through the glass walls he noticed a young woman sitting at one of the tables. Her back was to him but he could tell there was something wrong about her. Her slender legs were crossed at the ankles with all her muscles appearing tightly tensed. As she raised her coffee mug her hands trembled to where a few drops landed onto her hand and the table.

"Shoot," she muttered under her breath, rather weakly. Witwer frowned as he realized that her interjection was not because of the coffee but of something else. She took her unsteady right hand off the base of the mug and placed it on the wrist of her shaking left. She then began to breathe deeply. Quietly Witwer entered the room remaining behind her. Slowly, her tremor calmed and her arms and legs relaxed.

"Excuse me?" Witwer softly said.

The woman quickly turned around letting her long light brown hair swish around to her right shoulder; her eyes revealed a mixture of fear and shock.

"Are you alright?" he continued.

She grabbed a napkin and began to wipe the table and her hand. Her eyes avoided his, "Yeah. It wasn't that hot."

He motioned if it was ok to sit down and she nodded, "No, I mean, you were shaking."

She paused in the middle of one swipe across the table. "You saw me?"

"Yes."

Her eyes shifted to the ground and gave a small shrug, "Life hasn't always gone the way I wanted it to and let's just say I got into some addictions, but I quit all that a long time ago. And…every now and then I face some payback for my dumb mistakes, that's all."

Witwer nodded contemplating, "How long ago was it that you stopped?"

"Six years."

He raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"It's hard to get rid of something like that."—she shrugged—"That's why I've begun drinking coffee." She told him as she walked over to a trash can and threw away the napkin.

For the first time in meeting each other she looked over into his eyes with her crystal blue giving a frown, "Who are you? I don't believe I've seen you on the force before."

Witwer stood up and extended his hand, "Danny Witwer, I'm the investigator from Fed."

She shook his hand, "Diana Warren. Wow, the investigation's today?"

Witwer nodded. "Gum?" He then held out a stick of gum.

She smiled taking some, "Sure. Want some coffee?"

He returned the smile sitting back down, "That would be great."

Diana walked over to the pot of coffee and poured him some into a mug. "What would you like? Sugar or cream?" she asked him over her shoulder. "Both, thank you," he replied. She then walked over to him with his cup in one hand and hers in the other. Handing it to him she slightly smiled, "Coffee and gum. What a great combination this'll be."

"It's not that bad actually."

Tonguing the gum into her cheek, Diana took a sip of her coffee. Witwer watched as this time she was able to actually bring it to her mouth.

"So, can you explain to me about the headquarters?"

She nodded. "Right now since there's not a future murder us precops will take a break until we hear the alarm sound which means that we need to set out. Then we suit up and load into our ships called 'Dispensers'."

"Where's the murders predicted?"

"Over at the Precrime Analytical Room. I can lead you to it if you want."

"Ok."

They both rose up and Diana walked over to the sink and set her empty mug down. Turning around she led Witwer out into the glass halls and began to head towards the Analytical Room when her watch went off. "Oh," she said checking the face seeing it say WAITING MESSAGE, "Listen, I'm gonna have to head to my office so, the room is straight ahead and then you take a left up a slightly spiral ramp and then you'll be there. If you get lost, just ask one of the secretaries for help."

He nodded and smiled as he watched her walk off.

--------------

Standing outside the door to the Analytical Room Gordon Fletcher, a muscular man with army style blond hair, watched as the Fed investigator walked in his direction being led by one of the secretaries. Hurrying into the room he approached John Anderton, a man in his early forties that ran the Precrime Department, while in the middle of solving a prevision.

"Chief, the investigator from the Fed is here." Fletcher told him.

Without glancing away from the holo screen Anderton replied, "You're kidding, that's today?"

"I wrote it down in your calendar, then left a message at your house—"

Anderton's blue green eyes inspected a frozen image, "All I need, some twink from the Fed poking around right now."—He turned to the black man, Jad, at the computer behind him—"Check again with the paper, they had it forwarded. See if the neighbors know where they went, check all relations—"

"But John—" Fletcher began.

"Fletch, just get him some coffee and tell him some stories of how I save your butt every day."

"I've got coffee, thank you," a voice said.

Anderton turned to see Witwer who seemed to study at everyone and everything. "Danny Witwer," He said extending his hand for a shake, "The 'Twink from the Fed'."

Anderton began to reach over to shake Witwer's hand when the image moved with him and disappeared. "Oops," Witwer said looking over at the holo screen, "Gum?"

"Sorry Danny," Anderton said beginning to scrub images again, "looks like I'm gonna have to give you the full tour some other time."

"The Marks moved two weeks ago," Jad informed, "Nobody knows where. Still searching for family and employer."

Looking over Jad's computer Jeff Knott announced, "Time horizon, 12 minutes."

Witwer slightly smiled continuing his conversation with Anderton, "Your secretaries were all kind enough to give me a look around the office…" Glancing out the clear doors Anderton noticed there stood half a dozen female Precrime office workers who all seemed to be staring at the new comer. And even better, they all were chewing gum.

-----------------

After checking her message, Diana began to head to the Analytical Room. She smiled as she began to reach the twisting staircase. The funniest part about the message was that it was a notice saying that the Fed agent had arrived. _You need to stay on your toes Fletcher_, she thought and began to think about how she could scold him. But before she came up with something, she entered a crowd of women that stood right before the door. "What's this?" she muttered to herself.

"Clear the stairs!" Diana ordered, it wouldn't be good for a precop to exit the Analytical Room and then trip from the crowd. The women slightly back away. She opened the glass door and entered to find Fletcher explaining the procedure of "scrubbing the image" to Witwer. Hearing her steps Anderton turned around for a small moment and then brought his attention back to the holo screen, "Not you too."

She furrowed her brows continuing to chew her gum and looked back at the secretaries. At her stare they all scattered, afraid that they'd be punished for not obeying her. But she then noticed how all of them had received the same gift that she had. She looked over at Witwer with a crooked smile, "Seems you found the place perfectly fine." Witwer smiled back.

"The victims are pronounced here, the killers here," Fletcher explained to Witwer pointing out the slots that the Red Balls drop from, "Beyond that and the date of the crime, all we have are the images that they produce." He pointed down towards the "Temple" at the Precogs. Witwer walked over and stared down at the three beings immersed in the milky water, not exactly human, but not gods either. One thing that was rather shocking was that the tank that they rested in was the shape of the Precrime Headquarters' badge. He smiled as he noticed it. The Precogs themselves were pale and their veins were slightly seeable. It seemed almost painful to watch as their bodies withered in agony and shook.

Fletcher followed Witwer over and watched the Precogs as well. It seemed amazing that they could have this technology as the years have progressed. Fletcher looked back to see Diana watching the prevision play over and over. He got her attention and directed her over and began to introduce her to Witwer when he saw she was already chewing gum. "I guess you two have already met," he said. "Yeah, we have," she replied. "Want some more gum anyway?" Witwer asked, "The flavor fades away pretty fast."

"I show a cop on horseback." Anderton told Jad.

"Somewhere near the capital?"

"No, maglev system."

"The mall?"

"Georgetown."

Diana smiled as she took the piece from his hand, "Thanks."

He returned the smile popping another into his own mouth. As he and Fletcher turned around to watch the Precogs he glanced back at Diana for a short minute. "She's cute," he muttered to Fletcher.

Fletcher smiled and stared down at the precogs. "Filtered," he explained, "the Precogs can see outward up to four days with a sensory range of 200 miles." Witwer blew a bubble, not even bothering to take his eyes off the Precogs, "So if you wanna kill someone, you take him to Miami."

"Not after the vote next week. Once the Amendment passes, we go national, there's gonna be nowhere to run."

"_If_ the Amendment passes, mind you." Diana said looking over at Fletcher.

Yet as she stood there next to the Temple, Witwer couldn't help but noticed she looked a little weak. She seemed to have trouble standing up, and leaned up against the wall letting out a sigh. And when he turned to the Precogs, he noticed their focus had changed, they were all staring at her with their mindless cold blue eyes. She painfully glanced at the oracles and then leaned her head back against the glass again. "What do you mean _if_?" Fletcher asked her, "Who's not going to want an organization that stops crime _before_ it happens?"

"Someone who knows there's no system that's perfect."

Fletcher and Witwer looked at her confusingly. What'd she know that they didn't? Absorbed in what he was doing, Anderton paid no attention to Diana's comment and continued studying the pictures. Looking at a map Jad turned to him, "Two Howard Markses EYEdented in the sprawl. Neither show married—"

Anderton looked at the reference screens as they scrolled through Architectural Imagery. "Oh this is good," Jad said excitedly, "I show a match for Dwight Kingsley. Nineteenth century architect. He did two dozen houses in D.C…"

Knott checked his watch, "Time horizon: 10 minutes."

Jad turned around to Anderton and repeated louder, "Time horizon: 10 minutes!"

An alarm went out in the headquarters, which made Witwer jump. Diana chuckled at him. Straightening his business jacket and trying to hide his embarrassment he asked, "Can't they shut that off?"

"That's the Red Ball alarm," Fletcher told him, "Crime of passion. No premeditation. They show up late. Most of our scrambles are flash events like this one. We rarely see anything with premeditation anymore."

As the alarm drilled in his head, Witwer looked over at him, "People have gotten the message."—He then took out his pack of gum and offered it to Fletcher—"Gum?"

"Whoa," Anderton said looking at the image of the muscular man in the suit. He zoomed in on it. Behind him there was a child's face to the left of him. He turned to Jad, "Look at the kid. In this one, he's on the left of the man in the suit."

"Yeah? So?" Jad said not exactly what Anderton was trying to tell him.

"This one he's in the right."

Anderton switched it to the next image where the child is to the right of the man but facing backwards. Moving the two images quickly to animate them it appears as the child is moving in a circle. "It's a merry-go-round." He said, "It's a park!"

----------------

As Anderton's team ran down the halls Witwer began to follow with interest. "There's only sixteen of those old merry-go-rounds left in the city," Diana told him, "Two of which are in Georgetown. One in Barnaby Woods, the other in Woodley."

"Woodley's all Victorian," Anderton replied, "It's gotta be Barnaby Woods. I want two cameras: one spyder, one floater." Pulling out a .45 from his waistband he jacked the clip and checked it.

"As I recall," Witwer began, seeing Anderton's gun, "they outlawed compression firearms in the District ten years ago."

Replacing the clip Anderton replied, "They did. Make yourself comfortable. We'll be back in an hour."

"You mind if I tag along?"

Diana and Fletcher exchanged looks. They both knew that Anderton didn't even want Witwer to be here.

"I'd love to take you along, Inspector," He lied, "but there's no room on the ship."

-----------------

Loading on the ship Witwer watched as Anderton got in the seat next to Evanna, the team pilot. He glared at the Chief as everyone got into their seats. At the bottom of the Dispenser one empty seat stared mockingly back at him. Anderton had lied. "Time horizon, six minutes," Evanna announced. And with that, the hover ship lifted off the ground and zoomed away.

-----------------

In the hover ship Anderton checks his watch. COUNTING DOWN 5:38…5:37…

-----------------

In the suburb of Barnaby Woods, the birds chirped a peaceful melody as the little boy played happily on the squeaky merry-go-round. As the spinning slowed down the boy jumped off and gave it another hard push and jumped back on as it went speeding in circles. Suddenly, the silence was broken by the sound of something overhead and as the kid looked around he finds that it's raining cops! Looking up he saw the Dispenser floating above him.

He watched in amazement as the precops ran past him. This had been the first time he'd seen some in action!

Anderton studied his portable screen showing the image of the boy with the house behind him. Memorizing what it looks like, he looked up. And to his dismay he found that there were houses surrounding the park, each one looking exactly alike. His watch gave a warning again: TIME HORIZON, ONE MINUTE.

"Chief," Evanna said, "we're catching up to the future."

"Shut up, Evanna," He replied.

Anderton began to study each house trying to figure out which one was most like the one in the picture. Diana walked up to him finding one distinct difference in one of the houses, "Uh, Chief…"

-----------------

As Jad and Witwer waited in the Analytical Room he found there was a call on his screen. Rolling his chair over to his computer he heard Anderton's voice, "Jad?" He brought the image into view and answered, "Go ahead." Witwer quickly moved right behind the black man staring fixedly at the screen. "Did he close the door?"

"What?"

"Did Marks close the front door?!?"

Jad went through the images and found the one where Marks reenters his house, "Negative—front door is open! The front door is open!!"

----------------

Looking over at Diana, Anderton smiled throwing off his helmet reveling his army cut brown hair, "Good work." Diana smiled, "This case isn't quite over yet, Sir." And with that they ran into the house with the open door. Running up the stairs Anderton and Diana did their best to reach the bedroom in time. There was only a few seconds left…

-----------------

Howard Marks stood over his bed and heartbroken, looked his wife, Sarah, in the eyes. Both her and her lover looked at him worriedly and shocked. "I forgot my glasses." He told them. Sarah gave a gasp, "Howard—"

He then grabbed his glasses off of the nightstand and put them on, "You know how blind I am without them."

Fear shot in Sarah's eyes as she saw the scissors in her husband's hand. "Howard don't cry," she told him. And then, she felt the scream rising in her throat when she saw them being raised above his head and anger in his face. He began to bring the sharp weapon down and she knew he was going to kill her. But suddenly, the downward motion of the scissors was stopped—as Anderton grabbed Howard's hand.

"What—" Howard said surprised.

Anderton's watch beeped as the time ran out. They'd reached the future.

Howard fearfully looked around and began to break free of Anderton's grip when he noticed a gun being pointed at his head. Looking up at the owner he found it was Diana. "Hey there," she smiled. Suddenly, the rest of the team busted through the ceiling windows. Both Sarah and her lover went screaming as glass fell onto their bed and went into their hair. They began to run from the precops when two grabbed them. Anderton stared Howard in the eyes, "Mr. Marks, you're under arrest for—"

But breaking free of his grasp Howard began to run for the stairs. "Knott," Anderton called out. The officer obeyed and caught the future murderer and threw him on the bed. Pinning him down Anderton took a spyder from his belt and scanned Howard's retina. "Positive for Howard Marks."

Frozen, all Howard could do is gape. Looking out the window he saw the Dispenser. _Why me?_ His mind screamed, _why couldn't it be someone else?_

"Mr. Marks, by mandate of the District of Columbia Precrime Division, I'm placing you under arrest for the future murder of Sarah Marks and Donald Doobin that was to take place today, April 22, at oh-eight hundred hours, four minutes—"

"What?" Sarah screamed as she was forced out of the room along with Donald.

"I didn't do anything!" Howard pleaded, "Sarah!"

Anderton looked over at Fletcher who had brought out something that looked rather like headphones. "Give the man his hat," he said.

The other officers began to shave Howard's head and he watched as his dark brown hair fell in clumps on the floor. He watched Fletcher near him in horror. "Oh God! Don't put the halo on me!" Fletcher continued forward like death, unflinching, expressionless. And then he raised it over the future murderer's head as the criminal screamed:

"I wasn't going to do it! I wasn't going to hurt her! I just wanted to scare her!"

Fletcher suddenly gave a small smirk looking at him with his cold blue eyes. He placed the halo onto the man's head and he soon went into a convulsive shock, his eyes rolling white into his head as he finally went limp.

-----------------

Witwer watched as the Howard Marks murder repeated itself on the prevision screen. He didn't understand it. Didn't they make it in time? "I thought," He said, "they stopped the murder—"

Looking over at the young Fed agent Jad paused the image of Howard Marks stabbing his wife, "That's just an echo."—He smiled—"Precog déjà vu if you will. Some of the really bad ones, the Precogs see over and over again. Wally, erase the incoming." With a move of Wally's hand on his workstation the image disappeared and everything went blank. Looking over at the precogs in their tank Witwer watched as the female stopped her shaking and rolled over into the milk.

-----------------

Walking into the bathroom Anderton turned off the bathtub water just before it flowed over. Diana looked over rather sadly at Sarah Marks as she reentered the bedroom screaming for her husband. Seeing him there on the floor, limp but not lifeless, she brought a hand up to her mouth and her eyes began to water. "Oh no," She muttered to herself, "Howard…"

The tears grew and she began to cry uncontrollably. Hugging herself she backed up to a wall and when she hit it, she slowly sunk down to the ground. "It's all my fault," she wept, "It's all my fault…Howard…" Diana wished she could've given Sarah some comforting words, but it was true. It was her fault that Howard was going to be in jail. "Diana," She heard the voice of Anderton call out to her. She turned and saw that everyone was packed and ready to go in the Dispenser except for her. Looking back at Sarah she said the most comforting thing that she could think of at the moment, "I'm sorry Sarah."

------------------

Changing from her uniform to some more comfortable clothes Diana exited the suit up room. _Well, another victory for Precrime_, she thought. But something made her feet stop moving. Her mind flashed to Sarah's face, all blotchy and red from crying. Could they really call that a victory? Tearing away a family like that? Howard was right, he had committed no crime. So was it right to sentence him to the Department of Containment? If he were given the chance, would he have changed his mind? And then maybe they could've just given him a warning, and keep a close eye on him. But no, they have to go and arrest him.

Maybe this whole Precrime mess wasn't as good as she thought it was. She tightly closed her eyes; her hand began to slightly quiver. She took a deep breath and dismissed a disturbing thought that had just entered her mind. Her body relaxed. And suddenly she felt a hand plop down on her shoulder. Out of shock and reflex she spun around and grabbing the wrist she twisted the arm in an uncomfortable position. The person she had a hold on winced slightly and gave a small smile, "Hello Diana."

Quickly letting go she backed away recognizing the voice, "Oh! I'm sorry Danny! I didn't recognize you!" Stretching his arm he winced again, "I figured that much."

"Sorry, it's just that, you don't sneak around people like that."

Running his hand through his dark hair Witwer replied shruggingly, "Hey, that's my job."

"So, what're you doing here?"

"I was wondering if you could show me around."

She frowned, trying to see if there was a secret message between the lines, "But, haven't you already seen everything?"

Witwer walked closer to her, "Everything except for one of the most important rooms in this building."

Diana slightly smiled, "Oh no, no one is authorized to enter the Temple—"

"I'm not talking about the Temple. I'm talking about the Department of Containment."

-----------------

Walking down a ramp Witwer soon saw the door stating: the Department of Containment. There was the faint sound of an organ playing. The music was classical, it seemed soothing. He began to walk forward when his retinas were EYEdentiscanned and a mechanical voice said, "Not cleared for access." Diana gently pushed him away and when she was scanned the doors opened and the voice announced, "EYEdent: Diana Warren approved for entry." Looking back with a smirk she motioned for Witwer to follow.

Pulling back a curtain they entered what looked like a living space consisting of a bed, a stove, and a fridge…and not to mention a huge pipe organ. The music seemed to reverberate off the walls giving it a professional sound but obviously the man playing it was making it up as he went. Diana walked over to the man in the wheel chair tapping him on the shoulder. The music stopped abruptly with him dropping both hands onto all the keys in reach. Witwer winced at the horrible sound. The man spun around, "Hoo boy! You scared me, Diana."

"Sorry," she replied, "you the sentry?"

The man nodded, "Yes Mam. I'm Gideon."—He pointed to the organ—"The music relaxes the prisoners."

Starting up his electric wheelchair he began to roll over to the control area, "I don't ever see any of you precops down here, I'm not in trouble am I?"

"No, you're not in trouble. It's just the Inspector from the Fed is here and he wanted to see this."

"Oh," Gideon gave a rather grimy smile turning to Witwer, "That explains why I don't recognize you. But, uh, didn't we schedule—"

Winking he introduced himself, "It's ok. Danny Witwer. Gum?"

Gideon nodded and took a stick, "Thanks."

"Can I see the prisoners?" He asked.

Gideon smiled, "For that my friend, we go for a ride."

The three of them moved onto a platform that stretched out from his apartment and after pressing some buttons all the prisoners began to rise up from the ground in their containment with the metal halos on their head. The platform spun around showing how the prisoners covered almost every inch of the giant area. Diana watched as the long glass tubes with the prevision of the murder in front of each criminal—well, future criminals—kept on rising, even higher than the platform.

"My God, there's so many." She said shocked.

"And to think," Gideon said, "they'd all be out there killing people if it wasn't for you."

Passing one prisoner she saw the name John Doe. "Hold on a minute."

Witwer glanced over at her. She continued, "Can I look at this guy?"

"Ah, the old Anne Lively case," Gideon said with a rather pleasant tone, "A golden oldie this one is. The first case of Precrime all together."

Diana gave a slight sad chuckle, "Well waddaya know."

The small holo screen played the prevision over and over. She leaned forward and looked at the images with a tender smile. Frowning Witwer watched as she reached out her hand and touched the screen as the face of Anne Lively appeared. She turned to Gideon, "Can you show us where she is now?"

He began typing on his computer and then sat back as the information popped up. "Huh. How ironic…" he said.

"What?"

He turned the screen where both Witwer and Diana could see. MISSING.

"Must be a glitch in a system," he muttered to himself.

"What was that?" Witwer inquired.

"Nothing," Gideon smiled, he couldn't let the Inspector know that there was something wrong. Lamar would have his head if he ended the Precrime operation right before the voting, "Anyways, it's late and you kids better get home."

-----------------

Exiting the Department of Containment Diana began to walk off when she heard Witwer call her name. She turned around, "Yes?"

"Would you mind if I took you home?" Witwer asked.

She stood there for a moment, tossing the idea in her head. Looking into his eyes she noticed that the cockiness and arrogance that they usually showed had faded away into a softer, gentler look. Her face broke into a smile. "Sure."

----------------

It was rather silent for a few minutes as Diana rode with Witwer in the maglev car. Then, Witwer looked over at her and asked, "Why'd you show such concern when you saw that Anne Lively case?"

She slowly looked up from the ground, "Well, a few years ago, my mother was murdered and, that's what got me to join Precrime. So, I guess it kinda hits me in the heart when I see another case like that."

"But, didn't the precops stop Anne from being murdered?"

Diana was silent for a moment, as if the question was too tough. "Well…yeah. Just, seeing it reminds me about it."

Taking out a necklace under his suit Diana recognized the cross as a rosary. Witwer began caressing it, "I know how it feels, to lose a relative like that."

She gave him an inquiring glance.

"My father was a preacher. He was shot and killed when I was fifteen on the steps of our church in Dublin. How'd your mother die?"

Diana was silent again, she looked away. Witwer looked at her concerned. Tenderly kissing his rosary he tucked it under his suit and reached over to her and placed his hand on hers. She slightly looked over, just enough to see his contact with her. The trail of a tear shined slightly on her cheek as the dim light caught onto it. Witwer tightened his hand where he was holding hers now, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to hurt you."

Sniffing Diana wiped her eyes with her free hand, "It's ok. She left the house one day when I was about nineteen and…and never returned."

There was silence in that moment, as Witwer held Diana's eyes in his. He then pulled a small packet out of his pocket. "Gum?"

She chuckled taking a piece, "Either you have a large pack of gum or you're constantly buying that stuff. You an addict or something?"

He smiled taking a piece for himself, "No. It's just my way of getting to know people." Then realizing that they were still holding hands he quickly let go. "Oh yeah," She said quietly looking away hiding her blushing face. They both smiled.

----------------

Pulling into the entrance to her house Diana began to unbuckle from her seat. "So, is this where you live?" She laughed at Witwer's rather stupid question. "Yeah, and then John lives right next to me." He nodded thoughtfully. "You two are pretty good friends aren't you?"

"Yes, I joined the team about a year after him. We've been able to relate to each other real well. John's a nice guy. Take it easy on him, k?"

He shrugged, "Sure."

There was once again, silence. But in this silence Witwer heard the soft mutter of a child's voice from the room right next to hers, Anderton's room. "What's that?" He asked. "Oh, a lot of times at night John will watch old home movies. He lost his son, you know."

"How'd it happen?" He frowned, though behind that his wheels were turning, absorbing as much information as he could get.

"Kidnapped."

He shook his head thoughtfully, then brought his focus back to Diana.

"Well, if my interrogation is through," She smiled breaking the silence. "I'd like to head on in and get some sleep."

"Oh! Yeah," his thick eyebrows rose as he seemed to return from his thoughts and waved his hands motioning for her to go on, "I'm sorry it's just…"—Witwer stopped himself from finishing the sentence, pausing for a moment until he found an alternative answer—"I'll see you tomorrow."

Giving a puzzled smile she replied, "You too."

She began to walk into her house when she turned around, "Oh and Danny, don't bother John this late if that's what you're thinking. He's been going through some rough times with the loss of his son and his wife divorcing him. There are some lines that shouldn't be crossed."

As she said that, Witwer sensed that she didn't mean just John's private life should be left alone, but hers as well. _There are some lines that shouldn't be crossed_, the words repeated in his head. What's she got to hide? Smiling warmly at him she turned and entered her home. Witwer smiled also. And then, if he wasn't mistaken; when he began to place the maglev car in reverse he heard the muffled voice of Anderton's son from his apartment. It was tough to make out the words but it sounded like, "_Gotta keep runnin'_."


	2. Chapter 2: Apollo's Breath

**Disclaimer:** _I do not own any characters or parts from the movie "Minority Report" nor am I affiliated with the writers, directors, producers, ect. I am not making a profit from this story._

**P/L:** It is the year 2054. A so-called "Precrime division" is working around Washington DC. Its purpose is to use the precog(nitive) potential of three genetically altered humans to prevent murders. But soon a Federal agent comes snooping around headquarters in search of flaws. Human flaws. And the main man on his list is John Anderton, a firm believer in the system, that is, before it came after him. With the help of one of his closest friends, Diana Warren, Anderton has to prove that he's innocent, even if it means that the system will be shut down. But there's a secret that's being hidden from them all, and it's right in front of him.

* * *

**Ch. 2: Apollo's Breath**

"When the Precogs declare a victim and a killer their name is embedded in the grain of wood. And since each piece is unique, the shape and grain is unique. The shape and grain is impossible to forge," Fletcher told Witwer the next morning holding the sphere in his hand, his jaws bouncing with gum. In fact, everyone in the room was chewing gum.

Witwer stared at Fletcher, "I'm sure you all understand the legalistic drawback to pre-crime methodology."

"Here we go again…" Knott sighed. Everyone, even Diana, was tired of Witwer's constant reminder of how they could make a mistake.

"Look, I'm not with the ACLU on this Jeff. But let's not kid ourselves, we are arresting individuals who've broken no law."

"But they will," Diana told him.

"The commission of the crime itself is absolute metaphysics," Fletcher informed, occupying his time by rolling the wooden ball in his hands, "The Precogs see the future. And they're never wrong."

"But it's not the future if you stop it. Isn't that a fundamental paradox?" Witwer asked.

A voice came from behind them, "Yes it is."

Anderton tried to hide his shock as he saw them all turn with gum in their mouth. What was so charming about this Fed agent? He wasn't sure if he could recall his companions ever getting so friendly so fast with a person. But maybe that's what Witwer wanted. If he got close then it'd be easier to gain information. Trust always got information. Even the stuff you shouldn't tell about.

Well, it didn't matter what his fellow precops thought about the arrogant agent. All that mattered was that he knew Witwer was bad news. After all, Lamar had just told him before he entered the Analytical room to keep a close eye on the Fed agent. And that's just what he'd do. Anderton held out his hand motioning for Fletcher to throw him the red sphere. He did and Anderton caught it with ease, "You're talking about predetermination, which happens all the time."

He rolled it across the glass of the holo screen towards Witwer. And just as the ball began to fall off the edge the agent caught it, rubbing his thumb against the smooth surface.

"Why did you catch that?" Anderton asked him.

"Because it was going to fall." Witwer replied.

"Are you certain?"

"Yes."

"But it didn't fall. You caught it."

Witwer smiled catching on as he looked down at the ball. He then tossed it in the air and caught it. Anderton walked towards him.

"The fact that you prevented it from happening doesn't change the fact that it was going to happen."

Anderton stopped a few feet away from Witwer, but kept eye contact with him. It was almost like a stare off.

"You ever get any false positives? Someone intends to kill his boss or his wife, but they never go through with it. How do the precogs tell the difference?"

"The Precogs don't see what you intend to do, only what you will do."

"Then why can't they see rapes, or assaults…or suicides?" Witwer handed Anderton the red sphere and turning Anderton sat down.

"Because of the nature of murder," Fletcher told him then quoted, "'There's nothing more destructive to the metaphysical fabric that binds us than the untimely murder of one human being by another.'"

"Somehow, I don't think that was Walt Whitman."

Anderton looked over at Witwer. Obviously the man was smarter than he thought.

"It was Iris Hineman. She developed the Precogs, designed the system and pioneered the interface." He informed.

"Speaking of interfacing," Witwer told them, "I'd love to say hello."

Anderton looked at him confused. "To Hineman?"

Witwer looked over through the glass at the Precogs. "To them."

"Cops aren't allowed inside the temple."

"As I've heard," he replied glancing over at Diana, "So not even you've been inside?"

"We keep a strict separation so that no one can accuse us of tampering." Anderton glanced over at Diana also, only he was frowning.

"So I'll be the first one to go in them?"

Everyone looked at Witwer surprised, how thick headed was he?

"Maybe you didn't hear me."

"If it's a question of authority."

Anderton glared at the agent, he was really pushing it right now, "There's no question."—He chuckled—"You don't have any."

Witwer smiled as Anderton laughed. "I have a warrant in my pocket that says different."

No one moved. No one even blinked. Silence. Anderton rolled the ball in his hand, trying to think of a good reply, but nothing came.

"Show it to me," Anderton demanded. "Sure," Witwer replied.

Pulling a folded piece of paper out of his jacket pocket he handed it to him. Unfolding it John began to read. "Contrary to what you might think," Witwer told him, "this experiment is being conducted under the supervision and with the express permission of the Attorney General of the United States. I'm here as his representative. Which means…you're now operating under my supervision."

Anderton frowned looking up from the paper and looked around at his men rather sadly. Then he looked to Witwer. He'd lost the battle, and he knew it. But, how could Witwer be able to do that? Kick him out of his control over everything? Witwer began to take the paper from him, "It seems you've been left out of the loop, John."

But just as Witwer began to place the paper back in his pocket Diana snatched it out of his hands. "Let me see that," she demanded. He looked over at her shocked. Why did she act aggravated towards him? The rules mentioned nothing of her concern. She glared over at him as she began to unfold the warrant. A glare saying, _I told you to take it easy on him_. He looked away and nervously glanced down at the floor. Not to be selfish, Diana wanted to look at the note for Anderton's sake, but mostly for her own. She didn't want to go into the Temple. She hated the place and the very existence of it seemed to drain her soul. Reading through the note she then began to check the back of the paper and peered closer at. "Aw come on, there's always some small print saying something meaning that something else has to happen or something like that," She said.

Witwer chuckled snatching the note from her, "Not on this one, sweetheart." Offended and shocked she glared at him. The other precops looked confusingly from one to another. Especially Anderton whose mind pondered ever more about what Diana had been doing when he wasn't around. Seeing his mistake Witwer laughed nervously, "Well, how about we go ahead and head over to the Temple?"

Slightly nodding everyone but Anderton began to walk out of the glass doors. Diana gave a deep sigh. "Warren," he called out. She turned around and walked over to him, it didn't mean anything good when he called her last name, "Yes, Chief?" Witwer turned around also and began to walk to them when Anderton told him giving a death stare, "This is none of your business."

Witwer looked at him smugly, "Oh, but I believe this paper states that everything's my business now. Or do I need to bring it out—"

"Danny," Diana told him sharply, "if you bring that paper out one more time I swear I'll stuff it in your mouth."

Laying his left arm across his torso Anderton propped his right arm on top of it and covered his mouth with his hand to hide the smile on his face. Witwer looked around knowing he'd been beaten, "Ok, I think I'll wait outside with everyone else." Turning and walking outside Diana watched him leave with a smile. _Smart guy_, she thought, _knows not to mess with me_. Once the glass doors closed Anderton stood up smiling, "How do you do it?"

She looked at him confused, but glad he wasn't too mad, "Do what?"

"Get that little smartass to listen to you?"

She chuckled, "Oh…well maybe he can sense a respectable figure when he sees one."

"I'd say 'figure' was right," Anderton agreed looking her up and down.

She sighed knowing Anderton was right remembering the small moment they held hands. Which really wasn't all that bad. Ok, it was great.

"What do you have against Danny anyway?" She asked.

"What do I have against him?" Anderton asked pointing to himself, "Why do you guys like him so much?"

"Well, he's nice. Just as long as you don't go into his business. Then he gets kinda annoying but, he's funny. And he's—well, I dunno."

"Charming? Handsome? Stop me when I get close."

"Really that wasn't what I was thinking." She began to blush.

Anderton smiled.

"Okay, well maybe I thought that a little bit. But you didn't answer my question."

He leaned against the screen and sighed, "I feel threatened by him I guess. He's trying to take everything away from us, Diana. He's not searching for the positive stuff. Now he's kicking me out of my position."

She nodded looking down.

"And then my precops," he continued on, Diana looked up, "are becoming good friends with him and I don't trust him. I feel like he might use you, everybody."

Diana frowned at him; Witwer wouldn't use her would he?

"Lamar doesn't trust him either and I've been told to keep an eye on him. I'm just suspicious about the guy."

"I don't think Danny's the kind that person. He wants the system."

"How can you be sure? I believe he's already begun to wrap you around his finger."—Diana looked rather hurt at Anderton for saying that. He knew that she was an independent woman and wasn't a follower—"Where exactly did he talk you into taking him?"

"What are you talking about?"

"He said he already knew that he couldn't see the precogs. Why?"

"Well, uh, last night he told me he wanted to see one of most important rooms and I thought he meant the Temple so I told him no, that we couldn't go in there."

"So you took him, where?"

"To the Department of Containment."

Anderton growled. Even though the glass muted their conversation from anyone outside, Witwer turned around. He smiled.

"That sneaky rat!"

"What?"

"We'd scheduled another day for him to see it. But I guess he changed his mind."

"I don't understand, what's so wrong with that?"

"If there was a problem with the Department then we could've pointed it out and fixed before he noticed. But with his surprise visit he saw everything unprepared. And for him to know about not being able to see the precogs…I bet the little liar called Justice and asked for that sheet of paper!"

"Let's quit the name calling. I think this whole voting thing's putting too much pressure on you," She walked over and began to massage Anderton's shoulders, "Relax, yeah. That's it. How 'bout after this we go get a bite to eat? We haven't really been able to have a nice sit down to talk."

Glancing over at Witwer Anderton noticed the jealousy in his face. "Sure."

Ending the massage by a friendly pat on his shoulder Diana said, "Well, I believe you've kept the guys waiting long enough."

Anderton nodded and as they began to walk to the door she gave him a tip, "Listen, what I can see is that you're letting Danny get under your skin, and that's what he wants to do. To show that you're not stable. Prove to him that you are."

Pushing through the glass doors of the Analytical Room Diana could've sworn she heard someone say, "Took you guys long enough." Anderton walked past the other cops and without looking at Witwer told him, "Follow me." Diana though, began to walk another way. Seeing her Witwer tapped her on the shoulder. She turned around to see him vigorously chopping down on his gum. Must be his way of showing aggravation, "Aren't you coming?"

"I don't really feel like—"

But before she could finish her sentence he'd turn her in the Temple's direction and got her to walk with him.

-----------------

Nearing the Temple Witwer had left Diana's side and moved up front so fast that he was basically leading the group. "Hold on," Anderton told him as he nearly walked too close to the EYEdentiscanner. He stopped and looked back at the Chief as he walked up to it and scanned his eyes. "EYEdent: John Anderton approved for entry." It said. They continued in and once they entered they walked through the laser decontamination booth.

"Wally," Anderton called out to a strange little guy that was crouched by the precog tank. He leapt up and hurried over to them waving his hands, "No, no, no, no, no…"

"It's ok, it's good," Anderton told Wally, "This is Danny Witwer. He's from Justice and we're to give him a full run of the farm." Smiling Witwer extended his hand saying, "Nice to meet you" but unlike his past experiences at making friends, the man jumped back. "I can't touch you," he said placing his hands in front of him like a shield. "Yeah, you can't touch him," Anderton explained, "or anything else in here." Wally looked over at him, "And John, you can't be in here! You'll confuse them!"

Diana saw Witwer begin to reach for his piece of paper and quickly stopped him by reaching out and placing her hand in his. He looked over smiling and she returned it.

"I understand," Anderton replied, "Just answer his questions and we're outta here."

"Tell me how all this—" Witwer began.

"Shhh! They're sleeping!" he replied.

Witwer gave a look back at Diana that said, _Nerd_. Of course, Wally was pretty much you're basic computer geek with extremely curly hair that was so long that it looked like a fro and pale skin from not going outside. "Sorry," Witwer replied to Wally's comment and asked his question again in a hushed voice, "Tell me how all this works." A small ripple showed in the thick water and Wally looked over at the tank, "The photon milk acts as both a nutrient supply and a liquid conductor. It makes the images that each of them receive strong."

Witwer watched at the three Precogs rested peacefully—or as peaceful as you might call it—on their stands. Their nearly baldheads covered in some type of head gear and their bodies covered in a skin tight silver suit. They didn't really look like they were sleeping to him, more like they were in a coma. "We call the female Agatha," Wally told them, "The twins are Arthur and Dashiell." Bending down Wally pointed at the wires that ran to their head set, "We scan by way of optical tomography, white light pinpoints pulse along the entire length of the headgear and are re-read after absorption through their brain tissue." Witwer looked over at him confused. For once, he was the one lost. "In other words, we see what they see."

Suddenly Witwer felt Diana's grasp loosen in his hand. He worriedly looked back at her and noticed she showed that same weakness he'd seen when she'd been next to the Temple. He looked over at the Precogs, last time they were staring at her for her to feel weak. But they were asleep, how could they affect her? Most importantly of all, why was it just affecting her? Wally got up and walked over to one of the males who was shaking at the moment and began to calm him down, "They're not in any pain. We keep their heads pretty well stocked with dopamine and endorphins. Plus, we maintain careful control over their serotonin levels—don't want 'em to drift off to sleep, but they can't be kept too awake either."

_That's it!_ He thought, _they're not fully asleep! But whose eyes are open_? He peered closer at the Precogs, one was playing opossum and he was going to find which one. "It helps if you don't think of them as human," Anderton told him.

"No…" Witwer said, "they're much more than that." He nodded to himself and looked up at the three screens above the tank that showed what they see just to make sure it wasn't showing anything, "Science has stolen most of our miracles. In a way…they give us hope…hope of the existence of the divine." Anderton and Wally looked at him confused. "I find it interesting that some people have begun to deify the Precogs," he continued. Even this time Diana looked at him confused.

"The Precogs are pattern recognition filters, nothing more." Anderton told him.

"Yet you call this room the 'temple'."

"Just a nickname."

Witwer nodded, "The oracle isn't where the power is anyway. The power's always been with the priests."—He looked over to the Precogs—"Even if they had to invent the oracle."

Suddenly, as they stood there he felt all contact of Diana's hand be lost. And then he saw it: the female, Agatha, had one of her eyes barely open, but just enough to look at her. But as he tightened his hand to give Diana strength he found she wasn't there. Then he heard a splash. "Oh no!!!" Wally screamed, sounding much like a girl. The Precogs shot awake gasping, their mindless blue eyes looking around. Witwer worriedly looked around and caught eye contact with Anderton. And he didn't look very happy. He turned to look in the water when he saw her. Sinking to the floor in the milky substance, her light brown hair swimming around her face. And then her hand rose up, and she looked just like Anne Lively did. Everyone ran forward including Anderton who moved to stand right next to him.

"What'd you do?!?" He yelled at Witwer angrily. Without a reply Witwer quickly dove into the tank. It stung to keep his eyes open in the water but he had to. "NO, NO, NO!!" Wally cried as he plunged. Worried he ran around the tank, constantly trying to calm the Precogs. "You're scaring them!!! Stop it!!" He screamed. "_Shut up_, Wally!" Fletcher angrily told him.

Witwer reached out his arms and groped like a blind man. The water seemed to give more of like an optical illusion. Whenever he though he was in reach of her she would just be further away. He could hear Wally scream above, it was muted but he could hear it. He pushed forward, his lungs begged for air but he ignored them. If they needed air then Diana's would defiantly need it too.

And finally, when he reached out her hand fell into his and he pulled her body towards his and hugged her tightly as he stoop up above the water giving a gasp as the clean air rushed into his lungs. "Oh God, oh God," Wally muttered until Fletcher shot him a look saying, _if you complain anymore I'll kill you_. Well, not exactly kill you, considering after all, they were in a room that could predict murders. But you get the point.

Carrying a limp Diana, Witwer walked over to the edge of the tank and handed her to the other precops and Anderton. Once he got hold of her Anderton placed her gently down onto the concrete floor and felt her pulse. Jumping out of the tank Witwer quickly walked over to them. "Is she ok?" he asked. Anderton shot him a look of agitation and turned back to Diana who still hadn't started breathing yet. "It was nice of you to go get her after you pushed her in," Anderton told him rather quietly. Witwer looked at him incredulously, "What are you talking about? I had nothing to do with what happened! It was Agatha! She did it!" Witwer pointed at the Precog child like.

"That's funny. Considering she never moved." Anderton shot back. He then held Diana's nose shut and began to perform CPR.

Wally looked over at Witwer while in the tank tending the Precogs, "Precogs aren't aware that we're here. All they're focusing on is the future."

"Well maybe," Witwer said, "maybe Agatha in some way beckoned her to come forward. Back in the ancient days of the Greeks they had a temple of Apollo built over fissures in the Earth that released natural gas. The oracle that lived in there would breathe the natural gas and be able to predict the future. But a lot of times, a normal human would inhale the fumes, and it would take a different toll on them. The fumes would lead them to jump into the fissures of the gas…to their death."

"That's just a bunch of mythology," Fletcher told him angrily, "Nothing but superstitious folklore."

"It is but in comparison it makes a lot of sense. The Precogs are like the oracles and the photon milk is like the gas. And something made her come forward."

Anderton felt her pulse again. Nothing. He did CPR once again. "Aw please," he muttered, "Breathe!" He looked up to see Jad, Fletcher, and Knott all nodding to what he was saying. He looked at them shocked, "You guys are nodding your heads like you know what the hell he's talking about when we've got a woman on the verge of death!"

"Come on, Chief," Jad said, "he's right in a way. After all, what sense would it make for him to do something like that?"

Anderton shook his head sadly and felt Diana's pulse again. If he wasn't mistaken there was a faint beating of the heart. But if she didn't get medical care soon it wouldn't matter. She'd die. Witwer rushed over to him and got down onto his knee. He looked kindly down at Diana and said, "Maybe I can help."

"We've done what we can," Anderton told him sharply, "Jad?"

"Yes, Chief?" he replied.

"Take Jeff and Gordon with you and get Diana to the medical room ASAP."

"Yes Chief." With that, he picked up the young woman and with Fletcher and Knott began to exit. Witwer quickly began to follow them when Anderton pulled him back, "They've got it. I want to talk to you."

"I'm telling the truth, John," this time Witwer gave him a death stare, "I'm sorry about bringing up the whole oracle thing. Old habit. I spent three years at Fuller Seminary before I became a cop. My father was very proud."

"What does he think of your chosen line of work?"

"I don't know. He was killed when I was fifteen." He looked over at Anderton; "I know what it's like to lose someone close, John. Of course, nothing is like the loss of a child."

Anderton looked at him surprised, _how does he know?_

Witwer continued, "I don't have any children of my own, so I can only imagine what that must have been like, to lose your son in a public place like that."

Anderton took a deep sigh. The minute he started to seem nice he had to touch a sore spot. He felt a new hatred all together at Witwer. I mean, he made it sound like it was nothing but carelessness to lose a child in public. How should he know? After all, he'd never had any children. But the biggest question in his mind was, whom did he talk into telling him?

"At least now you—and I—have the chance to make sure that kind of thing doesn't happen to anyone ever again." Witwer said.

Anderton looked at him angrily, "Why don't you cut the cute act, Danny, and tell me exactly what it is you're looking for?"

"Flaws."

"There hasn't been a murder in six years. There's nothing wrong with the system. It is—"

"Perfect. I agree. If there's a flaw, it's human. It always is."—He looked over at Wally—"Thank you for the tour, Wally."—He looked back at Anderton—"Now I believe I'm going to go to the medical room to check on a friend of mine."

Anderton watched him walk off steamed. What was he after? His life?

---------------

Reaching the medical room Witwer walked over to the head nurse who was busy sitting at her desk monitoring each patient and each medical droid. She looked up at him as he walked over and smiled, "What can I do for you?"

"Would you be able to tell me how Diana Warren is doing right now?" He asked.

"Sure," she then went tap tapping onto her keyboard and brought up Diana's health record at the moment. Shaking her head she looked at him, "Doesn't look too good. We've got a small pulse but it's not strong enough to bring her back. She got a big swallow of that photon milk and even though we were able to get most of it out of her lungs she's still got those chemicals in her. Sorry, hon."

"It's alright," he replied quietly.

"Hey, I don't believe I've seen you around here before. What's your name?"

Witwer introduced himself once again, but this time he didn't bother to offer gum. Somehow it seemed to be better to make friends when he was happier, "Can I see her?"

"Sure, walk on in. I'll unlock the doors."

"Um," Witwer glanced down at the floor and then looked the nurse in the eyes, "Can I see her…alone?"

The nurse frowned and Witwer pointed at how the camera brought up three beings in the room at the moment. She smiled nodding then spoke something into the headset she was wearing and he watched as her room doors opened and Fletcher, Jad, and Knott walked out. They looked over in his direction and though they had puzzled faces he could tell they figured why he wanted to be alone with her.

Meekly walking into the serene room Witwer looked around to find that everything was white. He felt so strangely contrasted standing there in his black suit but despite his awkward feelings he continued towards the body of Diana lying in a recovery bed covered from neck to foot in a tight white healing suit. In it, medical droids were able to use their lasers and fix wounds. Pulling up a chair to the bed that strapped her in with two metal bars he swatted away one of the hovering droids that was in his way. It shot out a few clicks and beeps and zoomed off.

Reaching out for her hand he gently rubbed it with his thumb. "Look, even though I'm sure you can't hear me," he began, "I wanted to say I'm sorry. I didn't mean to force you into the Temple. And I'm sorry that I've been pushing at John even after I told you I wouldn't."—He chuckled slightly—"I mean, do you know how much of a threatening presence he has?" He looked at her beautiful face and thought he saw the hint of a smile. Or maybe that's what he wanted to see.

"I didn't know that this was going to happen. If only," He looked away slightly, almost afraid it would seem childish to say it, "if only I could've seen the future. If only I had known that this would happen. I don't want you to die…I…I…" His eyes started to water and he brought her hand towards his mouth and kissed it gently. Words wouldn't help. He couldn't do anything. He buried his face into her hand and tightly closed his eyes.

When he heard a soft sputter. There came a voice, "Don't wish for such useless things." Slowly Witwer looked up to see Diana looking at him. He smiled and she weakly smiled back, "We look at it as a gift that the Precogs can see into the future, but in truth it is a burden on them. And we are lucky that we can wander about not having such thought placed on our minds. Now what were you going to say?"

"You mean you could hear me?"

"Of course I could hear you, I wasn't unconscious you know. Now you were about to say something?"

Witwer chuckled. He rubbed her hand with his and kissed it again, "I'm, uh, glad to be with you."

She laughed also, knowing it wasn't what he was going to say; but it was enough.

----------------

The nurse stared amazed at how Diana's health had rocketed. Her pulse was up and her breathing was normal. She'd be out of here by the afternoon. That was strange. How could her recovery be so…so…resilient? And on such extreme conditions! _Well_, she thought, _we're just going to have to mark that one down in my record book_.

----------------

Diana smiled looking into Witwer's handsome eyes. They were so captivating, so…amazing. Witwer felt about the same at that moment. The silence was there again. "How about," he began, "once you get out of here, we go get a bite to eat. Maybe spend the day together?"

She looked at him sadly, "It sounds great but I've got plans."

Nodding slightly Witwer looked down. That was probably the first time he'd ever gotten up to nerve to ask a girl to go eat as strange as it seems. His job took up most of his life and he'd never really got the chance to go out and have fun. "Of course," he replied.

"Oh, don't look so sad," she told him giving a look of plead. Holding his hand she directed it over to her mouth and kissed it, then held it against her cheek. "Come see me again later in the day, closer to when I'm suppose to get out of this freaky room," she smiled.

He returned the smile, "Yeah, this room's a little nerve racking, huh?"

She nodded, "At least you don't have lasers pointed at you most of the time."

He laughed and stroked her cheek. Then, he began to lean forward—

—When a voice came from behind him, "Glad to see your doing better." Witwer turned to see Anderton. He shot the chief a glare. How dare he walk in on them like that! Anderton ignored him though. There seemed to be something different in his look, in his voice, in his eyes. "Thanks," Diana replied watching him walk over to her, she chuckled, "I though you would've known better though, John. Haven't we discussed that I don't go down without a fight?"

He smiled. Witwer glanced from Anderton to Diana and then back. He sighed, "I'll leave you two to talk." Diana looked at him sadly as he began to walk off, "Aw, don't go. Besides, you two are the people I most want to see." Anderton looked over at Witwer in shock but Witwer merely glanced back, "No, I'd rather leave."

As he walked out of the door though, he faintly heard her begin her conversation with Anderton, "So much for going out to lunch, huh?" Then Anderton chuckled. Stopping Witwer rested his hand on the wall and heavily closed his eyes. _So that was her plans_, he thought. Angrily he quickly reeled back and punched the wall, ignoring the searing pain in his knuckles and then walked off to get some coffee.

-----------------

"I don't see why you and Danny have to be so cold at each other," Diana told Anderton, "Things could move a lot smoother—"

"Tell Witwer to back off and I'll back off."

"I have. I think your trying too hard, John. You intimidate him I think and he feels like he has to be in charge so he fights back. He's just doing his job, after all."

"And so am I."

She chuckled. "To be the chief of Precrime I have never seen you so threatened by a younger and less experienced man."

"You're that young." Anderton smiled.

"Yeah well, we're not talking about me. We're talking about Danny."

Anderton thought about it for a moment and nodded. He looked over at her, "We are, eh? Then can you explain to me what he was about to do when I walked in?"

She blushed then changing subjects, "What took you so long to come down here anyway John?"

Anderton looked at her shocked; his blue green eyes seemed to say something words were not able to. She frowned at him worriedly, then reached for his hand, "What happened John?"

He looked to the ground his mouth moving but no words came out, "After you guys left, me and Witwer had a talk."

"Oh no." She sighed.

"No, no. Nothing happened with him, although I'm curious how he knew about Sean."—Diana's eyes widened knowing she did something wrong—"But once he left, I looked down at the Precogs and I had noticed that Agatha had opened her eyes. She looked so, so, drugged that she seemed frozen or something. Only she was looking straight at me. So I waved my hand to try and shake her out of it but that didn't work, so I got closer to her and tried again and she then…she…"

"What, John?"

"She reached out and grabbed me."

"But, that can't happen!"

"It did. She looked at me then, and said, 'Can you see?' and when I looked up at the three screens above the tank I saw a murder happening. It wasn't a prediction but something of the past."

Diana's hand tightened on Anderton's, "What was the vision?"

"Well, it showed this guy dressed in black from head to toe grab this woman and drag her down to this lake. And when he did, he tossed her into the water and drowned her."

"Anne Lively…" she muttered.

Anderton frowned at her, "What did you say?"

She looked over at him, "Anne Lively. That was the name of the woman that was supposed to murdered."

"How do you know?"

"Last night when I showed Danny the Department of Containment we saw that murder. Gideon tried to give us information on it but there was some glitches stopping him."

"Oh God, does Witwer know?"

"I don't think so. Gideon didn't say it that loud."

"Y'know? I think I'm going to go visit Containment. See what I can find on the murder."

"Suit yourself."

Anderton began to walk out when he turned around, "Hey Diana? Would you mind if I cancel our lunch? I think I'm gonna be busy for a while."

"That's fine," she smiled, "After all, there's always tomorrow."

Tomorrow. What a surprise tomorrow is going to be.


	3. Chapter 3: A Walk in the Park

**Disclaimer:** _I do not own any characters or parts from the movie "Minority Report" nor am I affiliated with the writers, directors, producers, ect. I am not making a profit from this story._

**P/L:** It is the year 2054. A so-called "pre-crime division" is working around Washington DC. Its purpose is to use the precog(nitive) potential of three genetically altered humans to prevent murders. But soon a Federal agent comes snooping around headquarters in search of flaws. Human flaws. And the main man on his list is John Anderton, a firm believer in the system, that is, before it came after him. With the help of one of his closest friends, Diana Warren, Anderton has to prove that he's innocent, even if it means that the system will be shut down. But there's a secret that's being hidden from them all, and it's right in front of them.

* * *

**Ch. 3: A Walk in the Park**

Diana slipped on her lightweight jacket as she got ready to leave the medical room. She worriedly looked around as she began to exit her room and walk over to the nurse. Why hadn't Witwer shown up yet? She did tell him to drop by, right? "Ready to go Miss Warren?" The nurse broke through her thoughts. "Of course," she smiled.

"Well, what I'm going to need you to do is take one of these pills right here right before you go to bed every day till the jar's empty. K?"

Diana nodded only paying the girl half her attention.

"These pills are going to evaporate the remaining milk in your lungs. Now I'm not gonna say it doesn't hurt because sometimes you may think your going to have your lungs ripped right out of you, but you'll have to bear it."

"I can take anything." She told the nurse confidently.

Nodding the nurse smiled like she didn't believe her. Ignoring the young woman's silent remark, Diana snatched the bag and headed towards the Lounge. She looked through the glass walls to see what she expected: Danny Witwer. Quietly walking in from behind him she watched as he just sat there, staring into his mug. "Danny?" She asked shocked. He quickly jumped at the sound of her voice and turned around. She smiled, "Not exactly the best seat in the room." He nodded.

She sat down in front of him, "What's wrong? Where were you?"

Witwer looked up at her, "What are you talking about?"

"Don't you remember me telling you to visit me around when I was about to leave?"

"Oh…yeah," he looked down at his coffee again, "I wasn't sure if Anderton would still be with you. Didn't want to ruin any plans."

"What? Are you talking about lunch?"

He didn't reply.

"Lunch was canceled. So I'm free for the day."

He looked up, _so she does admit it_. _Guess she's not one to keep secrets_. He forced a smiled.

"So I was wondering," it was her turn to look down at the coffee table, "are you still up for a bite to eat?"

His smile grew. This wasn't as bad as he thought it was going to be, "Of course."

She returned the smile and they both stood up. Witwer walked over to the sink and put up his cup as Diana waited for him. Then, standing side by side, he extended his elbow and she hooked her arm around it.

------------------

Walking out of Precrime Headquarters Diana looked up at giant sculptures of the Precogs. "Seems to say more than what you think it does, doesn't it?" she asked. Witwer looked over at her, "What?"

"The statues. There's something so captivating to me."

"Yeah, there is something about it." He agreed nodding.

"The one thing I don't like about it though," she said as they stopped to admire the towering sculpture, "is that it has the Precogs rising from the milk, and that gives it more of an unreal touch. And I believe because of that some people are inspired to consider the Precogs as gods and goddesses."

"So you did actually know something of what I was saying back in the Temple."

"Oh yes, I understood you perfectly."

He smiled and directed Diana over to his white Lexus. Opening the door and letting her get in he then got in himself. "So, where do you want to go?" She shrugged her shoulders, "I dunno."—She thought about it for a moment and then an idea came to mind—"How about we go to the park over in the old Washington?"

Witwer nodded. "Sounds good."

Pulling his car to a stop at a parking lot Witwer looked over at Diana. "So, uh, what are we going to do about lunch?" He asked her. Frowning she gave him a slight smile, "You haven't been to many parks have you?"

"Why?"

"Well—"

She then pointed to a stand that was near a playground, "They always have hotdogs."

"Of course!" Witwer gestured towards the stand, "I knew that! I was just testing you. Lucky for you, you passed." He shined a charismatic smile her way as he opened his car door. A smile she returned. Locking the car as they got out Witwer waited for the answer of a beep from the vehicle then moved on. Yet as they walked over to the stand Diana couldn't help but notice the many wandering eyes that fell upon her friend. There seemed to be suspicion and distrust in those stares, not to mention fear.

She looked over at Witwer who seemed oblivious of it. But he was used to the way he was, little did he know that his daily dress looked like someone from the Men in Black. She stopped him, "Hold on a sec."

He looked at her, "What?"

"You look too fancy. This is just some casual out to lunch thing, you look like you're going to an opera."

He chuckled. "How do I need to look?"

Accepting his offer she replied, "Like this." Unbuttoning his jacket she began to undo his tie. He watched the concentration on her face that soon brought a smile to his lips, it was not every day he had this kind of contact with a girl. She smiled slightly too as she undid a few buttons to his shirt. "There," she said standing back admiring her work.

"How do I look?" he asked raising his arms giving his torso a slight twist, "Charming? Handsome?"

She laughed and walked back up to him. "Not even close." She then brought out her arm and ran her fingers through his hair, "Gosh, it's practically stiff. How much hair gel do you use?" He smiled, "Enough for it to last." Ruffling his hair she made it to where it relaxed and had some of his bangs in his eyes. "Now you're ready," she smiled and handed him his tie. Stuffing it into his pocket they finally made their way to the stand.

----------------

Sitting on one of the park benches Diana bit into her hotdog. The ketchup squeezed through the back and dripped onto her fingers. She licked it off, "What's the deal with you and Anderton? Seems like you guys are always at each others throats."

Taking a bite Witwer didn't bother to wait to talk, "I dunno. The guy just obviously hates me. I'm just doing my job, y'know."

"Yeah," she gave a small laugh, "That's what Anderton said too."

"I've tried my best to get close to Anderton like you, and that only made him hate me more."

She laughed, "Yeah, he can be like that. He's never liked Feds anyway though. We came to Precrime at around the same time so you could say we've matured as cops together. And maybe that we live right next to each other helps."

Witwer nodded then made a face, "Why are we talking about Anderton? This is our time to get to know each other."

She smiled. "Feeling a little jealous?"

Witwer looked over at her, "What? Me? Jealous? Come on, of course not."

She chuckled, "So, have you ever had a girlfriend before?"

Witwer looked at her, "That was random."

"Well, I just got to wondering."

He looked to the ground, "No, not really."

"Really? Why not?"

"I-I don't know. I guess it was just me too wrapped up in my job."

She smiled at his shyness. Then looked out to the playground where some children were playing football. Faint shouts came from them in that distance as they called out plays pretending to be their own football hero. They would at least attempt at plays, considering all they knew was that you needed to get the football to the touchdown line and if someone of the opposite team had it, tackle them. She watched as one of the kids yelled, "Go long!" and reeled back for his throw. Finishing up her hotdog she watched as the ball left the boy's fingertips and went sailing through the air. She got her hands ready and watched as the boy that was suppose to catch it ran backwards yelling, "I got it! I got it!"

It was then Witwer looked up to notice that the football was headed right at him. He gasped seeing there wasn't any time to do anything. When suddenly, Diana was before him, with the football in her hands. "Good catch," he said. She looked back at him, "Thank you." The little boy who used to be yelling, "I got it!" stopped in his tracks, shocked that she had the ball in her hands. He then meekly walked up to her. "Um," he glanced down at the ground and crossed his arms behind his back, "Sorry that the ball nearly hit you. Uh, can I have it back?"

Squatting down to the boy's height she told him, "Of course. And next time tell your friend that it's best to do long throws when you've actually got a football field to run the length. I believe that would've been a touchdown if you had." The boy smiled, "Ok!" She smiled back watching him run back to his buddies. Getting up Witwer looked over at her, "What about you? Have you ever had a boyfriend?"

She sighed standing up from her crouching position, "Unfortunately, yes. But I did a lot of stupid things when I was younger."

----------------

Witwer looked around as they walked past the towering beautiful green trees of the park. He could hear the music of the birds come into his ears and there was no hustle or rush that you often face in the city. "Y'know?" he said to Diana, "I truly think you made a good choice." She smiled, "Yeah. I've always liked this side of Washington better than the other."

"Really? Even though there's not as much technology?"

"_Especially_ because there's no technology. I mean, look around you. Technology has destroyed some of Earth's most beautiful things. There's so much security here. And trust. The more years we've advanced into the less privacy we've gotten. Have you ever realized that?"

"Oh yeah."

"But things like this park, it frees your mind of those problems. You relax."

He smiled looking at her. The spring sun heated their backs and it seemed to illuminate her face; like an angel. She smiled back at him. Slyly he slipped his hand into hers and she looked over at him. She removed her hand from his grasp and then moved closer to him as they walked. Taking the hint Witwer draped his arm around her shoulders.

"So, what were you doing before you came to Washington?" she asked.

"Well, I was in New Jersey busy searching for an illegal alien drug dealer. He was importing packs of clarity to all surrounding states and some even here."

"Wow," she looked down at the ground, "What'd he look like?"

"From what I'd heard he had long hair and…no eyes."

"No eyes?" she looked away worried.

"Yeah, he was going to get them swapped out but he didn't have enough money to afford it so he just was left blind."

"Ew. Did you catch him?"

Witwer sighed, "No. He disappeared and we lost tracking of him. And that's when I was reassigned to here."

"Well," she replied, "I'm glad we got you to check things out. You're different from the usual Feds I've seen."

"Really? How?"

"For one thing, you're not dressed like some tough guy. And another, you're a whole lot nicer. I've been interrogated by some of the roughest guys out there."

"Is there not a third reason?"

She smiled.

"Well," he said looking up thoughtfully at the baby blue sky, "I believe we've talked enough about me. How's your life been before I came?"

"You don't want to hear about my life. It's too boring."

"I bet it's not."

"The time I actually started doing something meaningful in my life was when I joined Precrime. Anything before that had to do with creating some type of mischief."

"Well, I'm glad that we got to meet now instead of back then."

"Thank God. I was a totally different person back then."

He laughed.

"No, really. I'd probably be one of the people you'd be looking for. And if we'd met back then, we probably wouldn't be this close."

He smiled, "What do you mean by that?"

She laughed realizing what she said, "I mean, friends. Did you bring an umbrella?"

"No," he replied, "Why?"

"'Cause it's about to rain."

He looked up into the sky to find that the light blue had been replaced with grey. And as in response to her comment about it raining thunder sounded. He smiled looking at her. She looked into his brown eyes, and frowned trying to see why he was so happy. Then a raindrop fell onto her head. They both looked up to feel another drop on their face. And then another. Slowly Diana could feel her clothes begin to get wet. She looked over at Witwer, "Do you think we should go now?"

He smiled, "Nah. It's just water."

Pulling apart they linked hands and continued down the path. At this point, they were soaked with their clothes clinging to them and their hair flat on their heads. Diana smiled as she looked over at him to find Witwer shaking his head like a dog with his dark hair flying everywhere. "So much for gel," she said. He laughed, "Tell me about it." Reaching the center of the park they found a giant beautifully decorated fountain. "Hey look!" Diana let go of her grasp on his and ran over to it. She peered over into the pool and looked at the pennies on the bottom.

He walked over to her and leaned over also. "Look at the ripples," she said with a smile, "Y'know? Water ripples can be like life, every action (or ripple) you do effects everyone else's life whether you mean to or not." He nodded and smiled, "What about these ripples?" And with that he struck his hand into the water and splashed her. Jumping back with shock she glared at him, "Those mean that one action is the cause to another." And with that she placed both hands into the water and got Witwer even more wet.

"Is this a payback?" he asked her with a smile, "We're already wet." She smiled back and reeled back to give a play punch when he grabbed her arms and held both of them behind her back. He then pinned her against one of the trees. "Never mess with a Federal agent," he smiled. She returned the smile and an awkward silence came across again. They just stared into each other's eyes, holding them. Witwer brought his face a little closer and she asked him, "Can I ask you a question, Danny?"

Without taking his eyes off her he gave a slight nod.

"Have you ever really, really ever kissed a girl?"

He smiled, "No. You're the first."

He continued to bring his face closer and their lips soon found contact. It was bliss as Diana kissed him with her eyes closed. The rain didn't matter to her anymore, nothing did. Time seemed to stand still for the moment. Pulling apart she found herself breathless. He smiled warmly at her. "You know? For that to be your first kiss, you are wonderful at it," she told him as she pulled one of her hands out of his grasp and ran her fingers through his hair again. And then, she pulled his face towards hers again and this time, they kissed longer.

---------------

Pulling into her house once again, Diana looked over at him, "Thanks for—uh—would you call that a date?"

Witwer smiled, "I'd like to."

She returned the smile, "Yeah, thanks for the date. It was…absolutely wonderful."

"Yes it was."

She sighed looking into those beautiful brown eyes. "Well, I guess this is good-bye. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah."

Getting up from her seat Diana walked over to him and gave him one last kiss.

"Maybe there'll be a murder tomorrow and you can come and see how we do it."

"That is, if Anderton will let me."

"Oh, I can make him."

Witwer smiled, and with that Diana entered her home again. He couldn't help but wish that she could invite him in just once, but he guessed considering their jobs it might not be a good idea. He looked over to Anderton's apartment. No lights were on, nothing. It looked empty. Should he go take a look? It was part of his job to do that anyway. _There are some lines you shouldn't cross_, Diana's voice warned him in his mind. He tossed and turned the idea in his mind, when he thought of something. If Anderton is really a good cop then he should have nothing to hide.

He backed the car up and moved over to Anderton's door.

---------------

After changing into some dry clothes and wrapping a towel around her head Diana walked over to her couch and sat down. Grabbing the phone she dialed Anderton's house. As she waited for someone to pick up she smiled reminiscing on past events. But there was a problem with that, no one picked up. She hung up the phone and dialed Anderton's car phone. His image appeared on the screen, "Hello?" She smiled, "Hey John! Where are you?"

"I'm headed home. I wanted to talk to Lamar about the Anne Lively murder."

"Ah. Listen John; once you get home, I want you to hide all of your clarity. Danny just got through working on a drug dealer, and I believe it's Lycon that he was looking for."

"I'm fine, Diana. Did you tell him about Lycon?"

"No. I knew how important he was to you. But John, what if Danny decided to look at your house right now? What would you do?"

"I'm _fine_, Diana. Geez, what is it with you guys today? Lamar was fretting over the same thing."

"You're a great cop, John. And I don't want to lose you. In fact, if we did, I'm not sure if I could work along with any other man."

"Thanks but, I've got things under control."

"John—"

"It's ok, don't worry."

"Alright, fine. See you tomorrow."

"Bye."

Diana hung up her phone and sadly put it up. She couldn't help but worry. Danny was no dummy. If he's intent on finding something he will. And when he does, John's going to be in big trouble.

---------------

Searching around Anderton's apartment Witwer noticed his kitchen table covered in papers and trash. He walked over to it and inspected it. And then he found what he was looking for and picked it up. A container of clarity. That's what he was hiding. That was the flaw. He stuck the drug in his coat pocket and walked over to Anderton's computer. Pressing some buttons he watched as the TV was turned on and projectors all around the room came on. It was a video of Anderton's little boy, Sean. He was a cute kid, and in the film he was talking about how he and his friends had created a club. "Daddy's in big trouble, Sean," he said.


	4. Chapter 4: Framed

**Disclaimer:** _I do not own any characters or parts from the movie "Minority Report" nor am I affiliated with the writers, directors, producers, ect. I am not making a profit from this story._

**P/L:** It is the year 2054. A so-called "pre-crime division" is working around Washington DC. Its purpose is to use the precog(nitive) potential of three genetically altered humans to prevent murders. But soon a Federal agent comes snooping around headquarters in search of flaws. Human flaws. And the main man on his list is John Anderton, a firm believer in the system, that is, before it came after him. With the help of one of his closest friends, Diana Warren, Anderton has to prove that he's innocent, even if it means that the system will be shut down. But there's a secret that's being hidden from them all, and it's right in front of them.

* * *

**Ch. 4: Framed**

_They seem to have a clue now, a clue to what's going on. But can they find out what's going on by themselves? Or do I need to help? Time is running short, considering the future. Does John know what's next? I know. Yes, I know._

_I see the flashes of images again. Once more, incomplete. There's a face wearing sunglasses…The number nine and then the number six…the inside of a small apartment…a figure backlit by a window…a cracked mirror…a small man…a pair of dark eyes…_

_--------------_

Anderton walked into headquarters the next day and stopping by the coat rack he hung up his jacket. And as he did, his image card with the information of Anne Lively's drowning fell out. He bent down and picked it up and once he did, studied the scene. What was so important about this murder? What did he need to see? His ears picked up the sound of laughter and as he looked up he noticed that the secretaries were having a baby shower for the lady who was pregnant.

Looking into the crowd he noticed Fletcher, Diana, and most of his team down there. And then he saw Witwer. His hand on the pregnant secretary's stomach cracking a joke. Anderton next heard a roar of laughter following it. _Well_, he thought to himself, _if it isn't Mr. Popularity over there_. Looking in his direction his team saw him and began to leave when Anderton motioned for them to stay. Witwer looked up and watched them curiously. Anderton pocketed the data card and went into the Analytical Room.

------------

Diana walked over to Witwer who was just making his way over to the food. "Looks like I was right in you getting to see us in action," she told him nodding her head towards the Analytical Room. Turning around with a piece of cake Witwer looked up to see Anderton "scrubbing for images". He looked over at her, "Do you think Anderton will accompany us on this one?"

She chuckled at him, "Of course he's going to be with us. What makes you say that?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "Some of my agent friends are suppose to come down today and I'm supposed to talk to them about how Precrime is going so far."

"You mean you're leaving today?" she looked at him sadly.

"Not today, I haven't finished my investigations yet."

She smiled, "Good. After yesterday I believe you don't need to rush off."

He returned the smile.

Suddenly, Diana's smile disappeared. She tightly closed her eyes and seemed to show a look of pain. Witwer watched her worried, "Diana, are you ok?" She remained silent, tightly holding her left arm which was back to shaking. And slowly, the shaking faded. She opened her eyes shocked, afraid. "What's wrong?" Witwer asked her putting down his piece of cake and grabbing her arms. She wouldn't look into his face for a moment; there was pain in her mind. He searched her face for an answer, but found none.

Diana looked up towards Anderton, her eyes weakly watching him. Witwer looked over at her, and then up to Anderton. Laughter broke out in the crowd again. Anderton looked back into their direction with beads of sweat on his forehead. His face looked worried. And then, his and Witwer's eyes locked. And just as quickly Anderton looked back to the prevision screen. He watched as Jad left the Analytical Room and walked over to the baby shower. He then spoke to Fletcher. Witwer looked back up in Anderton's direction. He was alone now. What was he doing?

----------------

Anderton looked at the screen in disbelief. Is this a joke? He replayed the vision, absorbing every detail. The man in the sunglasses, the number six and nine, a cracked mirror, him shooting a man… Yes, he was supposed to murder someone. It can't be possible. He zoomed back on his face paused on the screen. He looks so desperate, so angry. What could lead him to murder? He stared at the face, the one with the look of desperation, and felt like he was looking at a stranger.

In the Temple, Wally began to sit down at his desk and started to watch the prevision. "You're not gonna kill me," one of the male precogs said voicing out the scene. Agatha replied, "Good-bye, Crow." The male then said, "Anderton wait!" Wally chuckled as he saw Anderton's face appear on the screen as he shot a man out of a window with his .45. Surly this is a joke. He checked his headset, "Jad are you getting this?" There was no reply, "Jad?"

Anderton quickly turned off the screens consisting of the witnesses, James and Pollard. He then heard Wally's voice, "Chief?" He looked over at the computer geek in the Temple, too stunned to answer. "I like you, Chief." He said, "You've always been nice to me. I'll give you two minutes before I hit the siren." Anderton looked at him for a moment, then quickly left the Analytical Room.

He was dazed as he walked towards the elevator. Passing the baby shower he didn't dare look over at Witwer. That's the last thing he needed. Voices screamed in his head and all the excitement was overwhelming. He saw Fletcher waving him over but ignored him. And just when he nearly reached the elevator he bumped into Diana. "Chief!" she looked at him pleading, "Listen to me, I'm on you're side. Don't go searching for him; stay away till the time runs up. I'm going to go and see if I can stall everyone. Run, John, run as fast as you can."

Nodding Anderton took her advice and hurried to the elevator. Diana looked over to see Witwer walk up to her, "What's going on?" She looked at him, "Nothing, John just has somewhere he needs to be." Witwer looked at her unconvinced. He pushed past her.

Anderton pushed a button in the elevator that would bring him to the lobby. "Hold that, please!" he heard a voice say. His heart jumped into his throat as he recognized the voice and quickly pressed the close button. He impatiently kept on pressing the close button, but the doors were so slow. Two hands pushed in as the door nearly shut, and because of them being blocked they opened again revealing Danny Witwer. "Thanks," he said.

The doors closed and they began to move downward, "You're in a lot of trouble, John." Anderton stepped back and got his hand ready for his .45, "You set me up…"

"I'll write the paranoia off to the whiff you been doping on all night."

Anderton looked at him shocked. Diana and Lamar were right; he shouldn't have been so laid back. Witwer began to reach into his coat when Anderton quickly grabbed him and shoved him against the wall. He drew his pistol and jammed it right under Witwer's chin. The Fed agent kept his eyes locked on Anderton and let a small smile escape from his lips. He slowly pulled out a black inhaler, "It seems I've found a flaw, John. You."

"You gonna tell on me?"

"Possession alone will cost you six months, not to mention your badge."

Anderton remained silent.

"I guess we won't be working together after all." Witwer told him.

There was a ding as the elevator reached the bottom. The doors begin to open. "Now put the gun down, John. I don't hear a Red Ball." Witwer told him with a smirk. But just as he said that, the Precrime siren went off. Witwer's sure face changed and his eyes were replaced with fear. Anderton smiled. Witwer's mind raced with horrible thoughts, and knew this was the end. Anderton was going to kill him. But instead, he lowered his gun and pushed Witwer against the wall one last time and turned and ran. Letting the elevator doors close on a stunned agent.

--------------

Diana found herself biting her nails as Lamar ordered her and Fletcher into his office. It was a rare habit for her to do, but on this occasion it seemed practically natural. John would not kill someone, but how could he be framed? How could a person make something like that happen? And who would hate him enough to do it?

"Don't worry," Fletcher told him, "We'll bring him in unharmed."

"Yeah," Diana agreed, "I'm going to find out who's behind this."

They heard a voice behind them, "Actually Gordon, Diana, you're not going to do that."—The man turned to Lamar—"I'm taking control of the team." It was Witwer. _Of course_, she thought.

"You're what?" Fletcher replied shocked, he and Diana exchanged looks. Lamar motioned to them that it's ok. "Witwer," he told him, "Fletcher is second in command. And Diana is one of my most trustful precops. It's their show to run. You want, you can observe."—He looked over at them—"Do it. Find him."

Fletcher shot a look at Witwer, then looked over at Diana. She nodded and they began to leave together when Witwer called after her. "Wait," he told her as she turned around, "You're a part of this too." He watched as she moved back over to Lamar's desk and as he stared she returned the look with a glare. He was eerily calm. Something about that wasn't right. "He came to see both of you yesterday," He said to Lamar then to Diana, "Right before he got tagged. What did you guys talk about?"

"The Mets," came Lamar's reply, "John doesn't think they've got a deep enough pitching roster this year, and I'm inclined to agree."

Diana looked over at Lamar and smiled in her eyes, "Ah, really? I guess the game must've not been that good. He cancelled our lunch because of it."

"Bad call," Lamar replied.

"Why are you two protecting him?" Witwer glanced from one to the other, "You knew he was doping yet you did nothing about it."

"Danny," Diana's voice was firm, "The man lost a child for Christ's sake! You lose a child and see how long you go without doping."

"Six years ago. What did you guys talk about yesterday afternoon?"

"None of your business." Lamar replied. Diana sighed and looked away. Lamar gave in. He should've given the same reply. She began to walk out of the room. Witwer looked over at her and motioned for her to stay, but she ignored him. He placed his hands on Lamar's desk and looked at him agitated, "It's all of my business now, Lamar. Investigation of a supervising office for a capital crime falls under federal jurisdiction…so as to rule out any possibility of conspiracy. He's my suspect."

"He's my subordinate!"

Witwer could see the hate in Lamar's eyes. He'd just dropped from most popular guy on campus to the lowlife. Everyone hated him. Even Diana. And that hurt, "Shall we call the Attorney General? I'm sure he'd be happy to clarify the issue for you."

Lamar looked at him straight in the eye, "I don't want John Anderton hurt."

Witwer stared back at Lamar for a moment, then turned and grabbed his coat, "I'm gonna enjoy working here."

----------------

"Diana!" She could hear the voice yelling at her, but she didn't bother to turn around. She knew who it was. Anderton was right, Witwer couldn't be trusted. Why was she so stupid to fall for that cute act? "Diana!" He called out to her again. She quickened her pace. The anger boiled in her and all she could think about was _why?_

Then she felt his hand on her wrist and she stopped, turning to face him. She glared at Witwer. "Take your hand off of me," she hissed snatching her arm out of his grasp. "Diana," he said rather breathless, "what's the matter with you? You've been acting cold to me ever since Anderton was predicted to be a murderer." She stared into his eyes unflinching. "Why don't you figure it out," she replied. Oh how she wished he would go away, his very presence filled her with pain and anger. Looking back she couldn't believe that she had wanted him to stay in Washington longer. "That's the problem," he quickened his pace also as she began to walk, "I can't. Just yesterday I though we had something, and now you act like we've never met."

She turned around and looked at him, "We never have. The Danny I met was loyal, charming, and trusting. Now I see the true Danny, a liar. Well, for one thing, I don't let my love life affect my work. When we walk into Precrime Headquarters, you're just the Fed investigator that came to see if we could make Precrime nation wide." And with that, she walked off to Headquarters not even bothering to look back; though if she had she would have seen Witwer who stood frozen with his face shocked and hurt; his heart broken.

----------------

Danny Witwer stood in front of Anderton's team with the image of Leo Crow being shot behind him. "You may consider him a friend," he said walking down the line of precops, staring into each one's eyes, "But we know that John Anderton is going to kill Leo Crow this Friday at three-o-six PM, unless we stop him." He stared deeply into Diana's eyes, but she showed nothing in return. Everyone was glaring at him, why? What was so important about Anderton? Wasn't he good enough for them, for her?

"Don't think for a minute that if the situation was reversed he wouldn't go after you. He would be a cop doing his job," Witwer glared at Diana, her angry words echoing in his head, "As I'm doing mine." Diana's glare followed him then glanced over at Evanna who stood next to her. Witwer stopped at the two women who were at the end of the line; "So if you're not ready and willing to put the halo on him, leave now." There was silence. The precops exchanged looks. Nobody stood up. Looking at Evanna Witwer smiled, and hoping he could get Diana jealous, offered her a piece of gum. "No thank you," she replied with a straight face.

There was silence again, and Diana looked at her fellow precops with a questioning glance. And when she looked over at Fletcher, he cowardly lowered his head. She gave a sigh of frustration and threw down her Precop helmet. "I can't take it anymore!" she exclaimed and walked out in front of her teammates, "Are you going to listen to this agent? He's only been here three days! Do you expect him to actually know what John would do? I've known him since he first joined Precrime, and if he were in my shoes right now, and I in his, he would make sure that I was safe."

No one spoke, all the precops glanced shamefully down at the ground. Even Witwer felt bad. "And I have to say," She continued, "that it makes me sick that you're going to listen to him." She pointed at Witwer. He looked up surprised that she would accuse him like this. "Really, I thought I wouldn't have to be the one to stand up for Anderton," she glared over at Fletcher, "considering how some people know him even better than I do. But since no one will, I had to say something." There was still silence as she spoke. No one protested, no one agreed. _What's with them? Are they scared of Danny?_ She though as she stared across the room at the precops. "I'm leaving," she finished and quickly walked out the door.

Witwer looked at her shocked and tried to stop her but she went back into that mood where she wouldn't speak to him. He then motioned for the rest of the cops to wait, and he ran out of the room. Running down to her he noticed that she had nearly reached the elevator when he stopped her. "Diana!" he called out, "Wait!" She turned around sharply and looked at him. "Gee, isn't this familiar?" He said recalling when she spoke to him before they went into Headquarters.

She glared at him, "Anderton was right about you." Witwer looked at her confused. "He figured you out exactly, and—"—She painfully looked away for a moment—"and I was stupid enough to believe it wasn't true." Witwer looked at her sadly, "Tell me, please." She looked up and controlling her emotions looked him in the eye.

"He said that you were just pretending to be friendly, because trust can get you anything. And he was right. Because you pulled it off excellently." It hurt Witwer to hear these words, just as much as it hurt to have everyone hate him, even worse. "Diana, do you think I would use you like that?"—He sighed; it was tough to say what he was about to say—"Look, I have to admit maybe that was my first plans. But then I met you, and something happened I didn't expect to happen. I realized it when you fell into the precogs' tank." She looked at him, the anger receding in her for the moment. "And what I was going to tell you in the medical room was: I'm in love with you."

She looked at him shocked. "I was in love with you once," she replied, and for once, it killed her to say that to him. Witwer looked at her sadly, his heart ached. He gave a deep sigh, "I-I understand. I always knew you were in love with Anderton, I guess. Maybe I was the stupid one to think I'd have a chance with you. But that's fine. I'm not gonna stop you." Witwer noticed that Diana's emotions began to escape, even though she was fighting them. "I am not in love with John!" she exclaimed, "We're just good friends! It's just I can't hunt him!"

"I though you said you don't let your life away from work effect you."

She looked at him sadly. It was true, "Danny, I'm sorry. But I can't stand it anymore. It's mine and Fletcher's job to take control of the team if anything happens to John. And you've taken it away. It's not supposed to go like that. Frankly, I told John that I would not work under anyone else but him, and that's the truth." Witwer remained silent; he wasn't sure if he could put what he had in his mind into words. Diana stared at him quietly for a moment, holding him one last time in her mind. She then angrily tore off her badge and threw it to the ground. The sound brought everyone's attention to them. "Here's a little reminder of me," she told him quietly, her voice quivering.

And with that, she quickly walked into the elevator and punched the lobby button. She then collapsed against the wall and watched Witwer until the doors closed. His face was filled with so much pain, he looked so sad. She couldn't bare it. And she knew why. She had lied when she said she wasn't in love with him. Gosh, he was all she ever thought about. She was madly in love with him. And then the doors closed, and Witwer disappeared. With her back pressed against the wall Diana sunk to the ground, her body crumbling. And she cried her eyes out.


	5. Chapter 5: Three's a Crowd

**Disclaimer:** _I do not own any characters or parts from the movie "Minority Report" nor am I affiliated with the writers, directors, producers, ect. I am not making a profit from this story. I will say that I own the character Diana Warren, and that no one else can use her unless it's with my permission._

**P/L:** It is the year 2054. A so-called "pre-crime division" is working around Washington DC. Its purpose is to use the precog(nitive) potential of three genetically altered humans to prevent murders. But soon a Federal agent comes snooping around headquarters in search of flaws. Human flaws. And the main man on his list is John Anderton, a firm believer in the system, that is, before it came after him. With the help of one of his closest friends, Diana Warren, Anderton has to prove that he's innocent, even if it means that the system will be shut down. But there's a secret that's being hidden from them all, and it's right in front of them.

* * *

**Ch. 5: Three's a Crowd**

Diana quickly rubbed her tears away with her sleeve as she got into one of the maglev cars. With bloodshot eyes she opened up a holo screen and typed Anderton's cell phone number into it. The screen grew snowy for a moment as she waited for Anderton to answer. She stared pleadingly as the screen remained blank for over a minute. _Come on, John_, she begged, _answer me! I'm no traitor!_

And amazingly, just as if Anderton could've read her thoughts, he picked up at the last minute. "John," She gave a weak smile. He looked at her through the holo screen mistrusting. His eyes burned into hers, "Don't even try to think that I'm gonna believe what you're gonna say. Witwer's in the car isn't he?"

Diana looked at him sadly, "No. Me and Witwer are finished."

"I don't believe you."

"John! How can you not trust me? Do you not remember my advice back at headquarters?"

He was silent, his piercing glare softened.

She gave a sad chuckle and her eyes slightly watered, "I mean, John. Look at me! Is there a badge on my uniform? I quit."

"You what?"

"I quit. Everybody's turned against you, even Fletcher, but I couldn't do it. We've gone through too much."

"Diana…you loved your job…"

"Not as much as I love my friends." She gave a slight smile.

Anderton slightly smiled in return, then noticed her bloodshot eyes, "What's wrong?"

She looked down, "Nothing. I want to help you. I want to find who's behind this. You and I both know that you wouldn't be stupid enough to kill someone when Precrime's around."

Anderton nodded, frowning slightly at how she had avoided telling him the truth, and looked around. He then turned his face back to her, "Come to the Lexus Car Factory. I'll be waiting for you at the front gates."

"Alright, I'll get there as fast as I can. And John…be careful. Fletcher and them ought to have set out for you by now, and I'd watch your back."

Anderton smiled, "No problem." And with that, Diana hung up.

--------------

Anderton began to walk down the stairs from the apartment he had just accidentally entered, a Precop jet pack in his hand.

He hurried out of the house and once opening the door he threw the jet pack into one of the dumpsters. Anderton then broke out into a run and made a turn down one of the alley-ways. His breath was short and strong as he headed towards the car factory. Drawing near it he slowed down more into a jog and took a turn and found the car factory before him. The whining sound of an automobile reached his ears and as he looked around he found a black PT cruiser headed straight towards him.

The car stopped abruptly as he placed his hands on the hood and stared into the windshield. And found: Federal agents. Witwer gave a cocky smile and waved at Anderton. Anderton felt anger rising in him as he looked around helplessly. _She lied to me!_ He screamed in his head, _Diana lied and told Witwer to meet me here! It was_ _all a set up!_ He began to run past the car but Witwer quickly opened his door; so suddenly that Anderton couldn't stop his footing. Before he knew it he had smacked into the metal and went tumbling to the ground. But turning this more into a shoulder roll Witwer found that Anderton was back on his feet and running in no time. He growled slightly in his throat and jumped out of the car sprinting in the Chief's direction.

Witwer brought in deep breaths as he pursued Anderton. Even though Diana denied that there was no romance between them, he still found himself jealous of the Precop. How come she'd turned on him? How come she deserted him to help Anderton? Why wasn't their love more important than friendship? Witwer felt his blood boil as he looked back on past events. How she had dumped him as she did. It was too much. Is this how it feels to have your heartbroken?

Anderton quickly jumped up onto a metal yellow crate and entered the Lexus Car Factory. Witwer pulled himself to a stop and turned to enter through the entrance and pointed for his fellow agents to follow. Making a turn in the long hallways Witwer saw the quick image of Anderton as he ran into a room, the disappeared. He motioned for his agents to follow and as they entered the room they found that it was the heart of the factory. Machines buzzed and hummed as the moved around building cars. Sparks shot from one mechanical arm as it placed a bolt into a piece of metal.

Witwer turned to his men and told them to split up. Each drew their stun gun and nodded. As for Witwer he turned and began to walk over to the machines. _Alright Anderton_, he thought, _you want to play Hide-And-Go-Seek? Let's play Hide-And-Go-Seek_. Coming across several containers of bolts Witwer bent down and checked for signs of hiding. Nothing. He moved on.

---------------

Walking down one of the alleys Diana began to make her way to the Car Factory. She calmly took a turn and saw the large building, her destination, and a black PT cruiser. Her calmness disappeared and she felt worry enter her head. _Oh no_, she thought then muttered, "Danny." She broke into a run and quickly entered the building. Diana moved as fast as she could down the halls and found a door with the noise of machines behind it. She opened it and looked around. "John!" she called out, then jogged more out in the open.

As she looked around she noticed Witwer's goons as they stared up towards the ceiling. She frowned as she jogged forward standing next to them. The agent next to her turned to face her, "Miss, what are you doing here?"—He then grabbed her arm and began to lead her outside with the help of some other agents. She struggled but just didn't seem to match their strength—"this area is restricted for people like you. Now I'm going to have to suggest that you stand outside."

"No!" she protested, the looked up and saw what the agents had been staring at. A yellow platform up near the ceiling was holding Anderton and Witwer, who was throwing several punches at the ex-chief. She watched with fear as Witwer wasn't backing down and doing as much damage to Anderton as he could. _What's he trying to do?_ She thought, _kill him? _Taking that thought into consideration, she screamed out, "John!!"

----------------

Witwer climbed up onto the yellow platform and taking out his rosary, he gently kissed it then placed it back under his shirt. Him and Anderton stared each other in the face, then slowly walked towards each other. "I didn't do it," Anderton hissed. Witwer began to raise up his fists, "Of course you didn't do it. That's why it's called Precrime."

And then in that moment he reeled back and punched Anderton square in the face. A slight smirk appeared on his lips, _man, that felt good_. Catching his balance Anderton gave his head a good shake, then began to raise his own fists, "You can't win Diana over by creating these lies, you know."

The smirk quickly faded and his nostrils flared. "Don't bring her into this!" He shot back, then threw another punch, then another. "It's you that tore us apart!" he sneered. He reeled back again and this time his fist connected with Anderton's stomach and the Precop felt his air leave him. Winded Anderton grasped his stomach and felt a sharp pain in his cheek as Witwer lit into him with another punch. The agent couldn't help but tear into Anderton like this, he felt his anger calm. His jealousy disappear. This is what he had wanted to do for a long time.

"John!!" A woman's yell entered his ears. Diana's yell. Witwer stopped and looked over at his fellow agents to find Diana struggling again them. His eyes softened and he felt his heart hurt. His pain soon changed as he felt Anderton's fist connect with his cheek. He looked over at him and his anger sparked even stronger than before. "You two were going to meet?" he growled. Anderton glared in return, "Of course. But you should know since it was _her_ who told you about it." Witwer frowned, "She didn't tell me anything."

Anderton paused in that split second, realizing that Diana had told him the truth. He had doubted his one true friend. Anderton, however, didn't have time for reflection. Seizing his chance, Witwer moved forward and threw another punch at Anderton. But this time, he blocked it. Witwer tried again and this time he moved forward with such force that he knocked Anderton back a few feet.

Feeling his body come off the platform Anderton looked up and grabbed a handle bar swinging himself back around, directing his feet to Witwer's mouth. Taking the impact Witwer placed his hand to his mouth, tasting the coppery taste of blood. At this point of weakness Anderton hurried over to him and threw two punches at the agent then lit into the stomach, just as Witwer had done him. Only Anderton did it with more force than Witwer, and sent him into the air. Slowly recovering Witwer took a wild swing at Anderton, who quickly ducked giving the agent several more punches.

Diana watched with fear as Witwer grew weak. He wasn't as coordinated as he started, and Anderton wasn't one to take fighting lightly. Witwer took another blind swing at Anderton and had the same results. "John, stop!!" Diana yelled breaking free of the agents and running towards the platform. The agents quickly regained their feet and began to run over to her. Anderton gave another powerful punch to Witwer, one that sent him back a little. He straightened up feeling his mouth. There was a small pleasure as he heard Diana beg Anderton to stop. It meant that she didn't want him to get hurt. Witwer felt himself having a new motivation. He quickly turned his head and spit out the blood in his mouth and raised his fists again. "You wanna play rough?" he hissed, "fine then. Give me all you got." Anderton then threw a punch, only to miss. Witwer lit into him as he had done in the beginning, then backed up and charged him, grabbing onto his shirt.

But he did this with such force, that they found themselves tumbling through the air and into a Lexus on the verge of being created. "No!!" Diana screamed and climbed up a case of stairs and worriedly looked over the rail at them. Sparks flew, literally, as Anderton and Witwer continued to fight. Mechanical arms swarmed over them, adjusting screws and adding car parts. Anderton quickly grabbed Witwer's throat and began to squeeze, choking him. Looking up Witwer quickly grabbed a mechanical arm and felt himself being pulled up out of the car.

Watching them Diana soon felt a hand grab her wrist. "Miss, you can't stay here," one of the agents told her. She jerked her arm out of his grasp and spun around only to lose her footing and feel herself fall over the rails. Witwer quickly tried to reach out and catch her but he missed and watched as she fell right on top of Anderton. She moaned as the Chief moved her off him. Suddenly though, one of the machines moved forward and pressed down on the metal, nearly chopping off Anderton's hand. And then, the top was forced on, and everything grew dark.

----------------

Landing back on the ground Witwer quickly hurried over to his agents and peered over the rail at the incomplete Lexus. He watched worriedly, hoping that Diana was ok. That she'd give a sign that she was alive. Surely she loved him enough to do that much. But there was nothing. No sign. He felt a pang in his heart again, and tightly closed his eyes to not let his emotions get a hold of him. He felt one of his agents tap him on the shoulder, "Uh, Sir…" He quickly turned to the agent and punched him squarely in the cheek. Knocking him off his feet and onto the floor. "Idiots!!" he yelled at them, then began to run off where the painting of the car would occur.

---------------

Witwer watched hopefully as one Lexus began to be painted red. _Please_, he begged in his mind, _please be ok_. And almost as if she replied, Diana stuck her head up and looked out the window of the red Lexus, followed by Anderton. Witwer gave a relieved sigh. Anderton slightly smiled then whispered to Diana, "Don't take this personal." She frowned at him, only too soon. Anderton drew her to him and then kissed her. They slowly broke apart and he looked over to Witwer with a smug smile, then waved.

Witwer felt his blood boil and he let out a growl. He took in deep angry breaths as he slowly followed the car, then pounded his hand into his fists and broke out into a run to the exit door. But as he reached where Anderton's car was Anderton quickly pressed the gas and began to speed out into the open. Witwer angrily ran as fast as he could, chasing the car to all of his ability. But out of breath he stopped, and watched them disappear.

----------------

"What did you do that for?" Diana asked shocked. Anderton slightly smiled, "Just wanted to make Witwer mad." She frowned at him, "How?"

Anderton looked over at her, "He still loves you. And I feel like he wants to prove something to you by catching me."

Diana was silent, turning her head to look out the window.

Anderton glanced over at her but remained quiet.

"Where are you headed?" she asked.

"To Hineman."

Diana stared out the window blankly, "Drop me off here."

Anderton frowned looking over at her, "What?"

"I know we were supposed to meet up but, I think I have an idea about who set you up. And I need to check it out."

"But, we do know. It's Witwer."

She was silent for a moment, "Yes, but we need more proof."

Anderton stopped the Lexus. "Alright then."

"See you soon, John," She called back as she got out of the car and shut the door. He then went speeding off, wheels screeching.

---------------

Witwer stared out the window of the black PT cruiser dazedly. His jaws viciously chomping on a piece of gum while his mind thought up violent torture for Anderton. He knew for sure now that Anderton and Diana were behind something. And he needed to find out what. The agent that was driving looked over at Witwer and noticed his aggravation, "Something troubling you, Sir?"

"Nothing Foley. Just drive."

Foley frowned at him and went back to watching the road. He continued this for a while, then a question formed in his mind. "That girl, did you two—"

"Just shut up and drive!" Witwer shot back at him quickly.

"Fine, fine," he replied, "No need to get your feathers all ruffled. I just was wondering because there she is walking down the street."

Witwer shot up straight and eagerly looked out the window in the direction Foley was pointing. And there she was, Diana. Without looking over at his fellow agent Witwer demanded, "Drive over next to her." Obeying what he said Foley drove over and slowed down to her pace. She looked over as Witwer rolled down the window. "Nothing between you and Anderton, huh?" he taunted.

Her eyes shot back to the sidewalk and she quickened her pace. Witwer told Foley to speed up. "Well," he continued, "Are you going to speak to me?" She tried to ignore him as long as possible, but she couldn't take it. She looked over at him, "Just leave me alone, Danny." She continued walking to hear the car stop and a car door open and then shut. She sped up her pace even more. But when she reached a turn in the sidewalk she felt a hand on her shoulder. She shrugged it off.

"Diana," he said, "This is my job. I'm sorry to do what I'm doing but I have no choice."

She turned to him and said, "That's where you're wrong. This isn't your job. It was never your job. It was mine, it was Gordon's, it was Jeff's…it was John's. You didn't have to take over, you just decided to."

Witwer looked away and noticed her beginning to walk off. He grabbed her arm, "Don't leave! I'm not done."

She glared at him.

"Look, why don't you just go ahead and explain to me what Anderton was doing kissing you, if you aren't romantically connected. I've been wondering about that."

"He just wanted to make you mad," she replied, "He said you still love me."

Witwer glanced away, lost for words. He sighed.

"Well," he began, "can you at least explain to me _why_ you hate me. I don't exactly know what I did wrong."

"You lied to me," she told him, her voice quivering slightly, "you used me. I have been lied to all my life and I can't stand it when someone does it."

"Diana, when has someone—"

"There are some lines that you shouldn't cross."

"Look, please don't tell me it has to be like this," he begged, "You have to at least feel something for me deep in your heart. Otherwise, why would you not want Anderton to hurt me?"

He looked into her eyes to see them begin to water. He started to reach out to her to comfort her but she stepped back. He looked at her pleadingly.

"I'm sorry Danny," she replied, then ran off.

--------------

Anderton pulled his car into a dirt driveway far away from civilization. Getting out he looked around at the surrounding of trees and other plants. It made him miss his own home in the country. He looked over at an old metal mail box reading: Hineman. This was the right place. He walked down the tranquil path towards her front door, but knew he wouldn't be welcomed. Hineman enjoyed her privacy, and didn't like to be disturbed. Seeing a tree right next to her stone fence lined with glass shards at the top, he began to climb up it. Stepping over the glass he jumped down onto the other side.

Then he heard the noise of something behind him. Plant-like arms reached out to him, and grabbed him. He tried to pull away but the plant's grasp was strong. Anderton felt the leathery-leafy whips rub against his skin, caressing it. Then, he felt a sharp pain in his neck. He swatted away whatever bit him and struggled to pull away from the plant. Freeing his arms he fell to the ground, then crawled a distance away to freedom. Standing up he looked back at the plant, its whips of vines settling down again to be hidden next to the wall for another trespasser to try and break in.

He turned to find Hineman's greenhouse. The pain in his neck was unbearable, and it felt like he couldn't breathe anymore. He placed his hand up to his neck and felt where the plant had torn his skin. Wincing he moved on, his breathing deep and heavy. He walked up to the doors and reached out for the doorknob weakly, then steadying himself opened it. And there revealed Dr. Iris Hineman, an old woman of about fifty tending to her plants with a wide brimmed hat and her gardening attire. "Dr. Hineman," Anderton whispered weakly.

"You're trespassing," she told him without moving her eyes from a plant she was tending to, "I don't have visitors."

Anderton swayed slightly and gave a choked cough. It felt like his whole esophagus was being ripped out of him. He touched his scratch and gave raspier breathing. Hineman looked over at him. "Oh, I believe that would be from the Doll's Eye, the vine—the Baneberry that scratched you during your illegal climb over my wall. It's not a true Doll's Eye of course. It's a little hybrid of my own design. It's quite something. Once the poison gets into your bloodstream, you'll start to see what I can only describe as the most extraordinary display of blue objects."

Anderton weakly rested himself on a table, struggling for air. He was beginning to feel dizzy, disoriented. He stood up and tried to walk over to Hineman but found himself collapsing on her. She caught him and held him up, "This just isn't you're week, is it, Chief Anderton?"

Anderton looked up at her slowly and said as best as he could, "I'm not a killer."

----------------

Taking some herbs and medicine Hineman smashed them over a drain into a cup, letting the liquid fill it up. "You better drink this," she told him as she handed him the cup, "soon you won't be able to swallow and them you'll be totally buggered." She placed the cup to his mouth and began to tilt it upward, letting him drink. At the very taste of the medicine Anderton made a noise from beneath the cup and rose up his hand to knock the horrible stuff away, but he was too weak. "All of it," Hineman demanded.

Pouring the rest of it into him Hineman moved the cup away from his mouth and placed her hand on his cheek. "Ok, now take a minute to right yourself," she told him as he stared cautiously into her eyes. He could never be too careful. Witwer could have this place surrounded in less than a minute. She then sat the cup down and picking up a pair of pruning shears began to move some yellow flowers. "Just, uh, what is it you think I can do for you?"

Anderton leaned over breathing in the fresh air as his esophagus returned to him and felt his breathing return to normal. "You can tell me how someone…can fake a prevision," he replied breathy. "How would I know that?" she asked looking over at him.

Anderton took another lungful of air, "You invented Precrime."

She chuckled bitterly as she continued her walk to a table.

"What's so funny?" Anderton asked.

"If the unintended consequences of a series of genetic mistakes and science gone haywire can be called invention, yes, then I invented Precrime."

"You don't seem all that proud."

"I'm not. I was trying heal them, not turn them into something else."

"Heal who?"

"The innocents we now use to stop the guilty." She sat the plant she was carrying down.

"You're talking about…the precogs."

"You think the three in the tank come from a test tube? They're merely the ones who survived."—Anderton looked at her suspicious, yet curious—"I was doing genetic research at the Woodhaven Clinic treating children drug addicts. This was ten years ago when marijuana first hit the streets. It was an impure form of the drug not the engineered cocktail that became so popular among the more…educated."

Anderton placed his hand to his mouth, thinking deeply.

"All of these kids were born," Hineman continued, "with server brain damage. Most died before the age of twelve. There was few, those precious few. They had a gift, it was called a gift but to them it was more of a cosmic joke. They would wake up in the night, crawled up in the corner of their room screaming, clawing at the wallpaper because when these little children, you see, closed their eyes they dreamt only of murder over and over, one after the other. It didn't take long enough for us to realize that the real nightmare was that these so-called dreams were about to come true. These murders were actually happening."

Anderton was silent. Things that were clear became foggy. What he knew seemed to disappear in an instant. He cut his eyes upward to Hineman, "You say some of the children died?"

Hineman slightly nodded her head, "Oh, so many of them…despite what we did for them. Or maybe because of what we did to them."

Anderton frowned, "You sound as if the three we have aren't the only ones that survived."

Hineman bit her lip. She turned away and began pruning the plant she had, "I've said too much."

"There are others?!" Anderton looked at her shocked, "You mean we could have precogs walking the streets at this very moment? Predicting murders? Telling murderers about their future?"

"What do you think?" Hineman replied turning to him and speaking sharply, "I never intended for those unfortunate three to become what they became. They have no life now! They are treated not as humans but more as a piece of machinery! Yes, there still are some from my experiment walking the streets; I doubt they're telling murderers their future. To be more exact they take part in stopping it. They're all around the states, stopping murders from happening, even though they're not in Precrime. Very little though. I only had so much time before Lamar came and got the three. But, that doesn't matter. It's a perfect system now isn't it?"

Anderton jumped up from his seat, stunned by what his ears had just heard. He followed Hineman as she walked over to another plant with a watering can in her hands, "I'm not going to commit murder. I've never met the person I'm supposed to kill."

"And yet, a chain of events has started. A chain that will leave inexorably to his death."

"Not if I stay away from him."

"How can you avoid a man you never met?"

"So you won't help me?"

"I can't help you. No one can. The Precogs are never wrong." She handed him her watering can as she finished squirting the plants. He held it silently, his mind wondering if it was true. If he truly was going to murder somebody. Hineman moved on and as she walked over to a chair she chipped off a piece of bark, "But occasionally, they do disagree."

Anderton looked over at her, "What?"

"Most of the time, all three Precogs will see an event the same way. But once in a while, one of them will see things differently than the other two."

He followed her, "Jesus Christ—why didn't I know about this?"

"Because these Minority Reports are destroyed the instant they occur."

"Why?"

She turned to him, "Obviously, for Precrime to function, there can't be any suggestion of fallibility. After all, what good is a Justice system that instills doubt? It may be reasonable, but it's still doubt."

"Are you saying that I've halo'd innocent people?"

Hineman walked over to a bed of living moving flowers and bent down, her face right in front of them. They moved their long flexible stems and reached out, caressing her skin and rubbing her cheek. Almost like a child to a mother. "I'm saying that every so often those accused of a Precrime might, just might, have an alternate future."

"Does Burgess know about this? About the…Minority Report?"

Hineman smiled as she pet her beauties and fed them, "I used to joke with Lamar that we were the mother and father of Precrime. Well, in my experience, parents often see their children as they want them to be, not as they are." Her voice grew soft and weak as Anderton marched over and grabbed her arm turning her to face him. He was tired of her riddles; he wanted a straight forward answer. And he was getting agitated, "Answer my question. Did Lamar Burgess know about the Minority Report?"

As he finished his question one of the flowers shot forward aggressively and did what it considered, hurting him on the cheek. He winced and pulled away from the creature, it was harmless and didn't truly bite him, but he didn't seem to favor these plants with emotions. "Yes, of course, he knew," she walked over and picking a yellow flower moved it over to another table, "but at the time, he felt—we both felt their existence was…an insignificant variable."

Anderton walked over to her, "Insignificant to you maybe, but what about those people I put away with alternate futures? My God, if the country knew there was a chance they might not—"

"The system would collapse," Hineman finished for him, then walked over to a table and began to fix her a cup of tea.

"I believe in that system."

"Do you really?"

"You want to bring it down."

"But you will bring it down…if you manage to kill your victim. Oh my, that will be the most spectacular public display of how Precrime…didn't work." She sat down.

"I'm not gonna kill anybody."

"Hold that thought."

"Why should I trust you?"

"You shouldn't. You shouldn't trust anyone…certainly not the Attorney General who wants it all for himself. Not the young federal agent who wants your job and to win the girl he loves. Not the old man who just wants to hang onto what he's created. Not even the young girl that's managed to save you from getting arrested. Don't trust anyone. Just find the Minority Report."

Anderton looked down to the ground. Not trust Diana? She was the only one on his side! What could he do? He frowned at Hineman, "You said they're destroyed."

"I said the record is destroyed. The original report exists for all time. I designed the system so that whenever a report occurred, it would be stored in a safe place—but not declared."

"What safe place is that?"

"The safest place there is." She began to raise the cup of tea to her mouth when Anderton placed his hand on it, stopping her and squatting down to eye level.

"Where is it?"

Hineman took her hand off the cup and placed it on Anderton's head and whispered into his ear, "Inside the precog who predicted it."

She brought her face to his and kissed him passionately. Anderton stared at her shocked, and slightly disgusted, when she pulled his face away. Her wrinkly hands holding his chin. "All you have to do is download it, darling."

"That's all, huh?" He replied getting up, "Just walk right into Precrime, go into the Temple, somehow tap into the pre-cogs, and then download this Minority Report…"

"If you have one," Hineman pointed out.

"—and then walk out."

"Actually, I think you'll have to run out, but yes, that's what you have to do."

"You're insane"—a flower bloomed right behind him as he spoke, its vines reaching out to him. He scooted away from it—"or you think I am. I'll get EYEscanned a dozen times before I get within TEN MILES of Precrime! They'll pick me up…"

Hineman stood up and placed her cup of tea on the table, "Sometimes in order to see the light, you have to risk the dark."—she walked over to him—"As a policeman—oh, excuse me—a former policeman I'm sure you know all sorts of people who could…help you out in this regard." Anderton thought about what she suggested as she walked over to the newly bloomed flower and placed her hand on one of the thorny vines.

"It's funny," she said, "how all living organisms are alike. When the chips are down, when the pressure is on"—she squeezed the vine tightly in her hand and the plant began to struggle—"every creature on the face of the earth is interested in one thing and one thing only:"—The vine whipped out of her hand and when she showed it to Anderton he saw a long bloody gash on it—"Its own survival. Find the Minority Report." She then began to wrap her hand with her handkerchief.

Anderton was silent for a moment. "How do I even know which one has it?"

"It's always in the more gifted of the three," she picked up her watering can and began spraying the flowers again.

"Which one is that?"

She looked back at him, a look that seemed to say, _isn't it obvious?_ "The female." And then went back to squirting as Anderton thought about this.

He looked at her, "Let's say I do find this 'Minority Report'."—he brought his hands up imitating quotation marks—"What do I do after that?"

"Find who set you up of course."

Anderton frowned at her, "But I know—"

"You can't make a decision until you've been show the complete evidence. What you need to do after finding—or not finding—the Minority Report is search for the female's sister."

Anderton looked at her in shock, "The female…precog? You mean Agatha has a sister?"

Hineman looked down sadly, as if she regretted what she had just said, then slightly nodded. "Yes, there is another murder tied in with your troubles and Agatha's sister can help you. She knows more about the murder than anyone else. Even Agatha herself."

Anderton nodded repeating this information and his tasks in his head, then nodded good-bye and walked out the door. Hineman watched him leave with a strange sadness. "Forgive me," she whispered to herself, almost as if the person she was asking forgiveness for would hear her plead. She had broken her promise to Agatha's sister, and that was to never tell anyone about her.


	6. Chapter 6: Addicted

**Disclaimer:** _I do not own any characters or parts from the movie "Minority Report" nor am I affiliated with the writers, directors, producers, ect. I am not making a profit from this story. I will say that I own the character Diana Warren, and that no one else can use her unless it's with my permission._

**P/L:** It is the year 2054. A so-called "pre-crime division" is working around Washington DC. Its purpose is to use the precog(nitive) potential of three genetically altered humans to prevent murders. But soon a Federal agent comes snooping around headquarters in search of flaws. Human flaws. And the main man on his list is John Anderton, a firm believer in the system, that is, before it came after him. With the help of one of his closest friends, Diana Warren, Anderton has to prove that he's innocent, even if it means that the system will be shut down. But there's a secret that's being hidden from them all, and it's right in front of them.

* * *

**Ch. 6: Addicted**

After analyzing Anderton's crime for the thousandth time, Witwer walked over and sat down at Anderton's desk. Suddenly, a black woman walked over to him, "Excuse me, this is Chief Anderton's space. You can't sit in his space."

Taking off his glasses Witwer glanced back at her, "He won't be here anymore."

"He'll be back!"

"I doubt it." Geez, why was everybody so harsh on him now? He can't help it if Anderton is about to be a murderer! Jad walked over to the woman and began to move her along. She looked over at him in disgust, "What happened to you?" It was true though, something had happened to them. They had turned against their own Chief; the man who believed so strong in the system.

"In the meantime I bet he's somewhere in the sprawl. Anderton's smart enough to go where there's electronic billboards and other media can't ID him to pick his pocket. There's fewer consumers down there, which means fewer scanners to target him." Witwer continued with his reasoning.

Knott began, "Why wouldn't he just run?"

"Because he thinks he's innocent." Witwer chuckled slightly to the thought. How could Anderton be innocent? "We concentrate on the sprawl," he continued, "We do overflies in ships with two spyder teams on the ground. Go building by building. Thermal scan the whole area, read anything with eyes and a heartbeat."

Witwer slightly spun his chair, and as he turned towards Anderton's computer, he noticed an image card slightly hidden beneath the keyboard. He reached in and pulled it out, inspecting it, and found it being a familiar case. It was the Anne Lively drowning. But the most intriguing thing about it was: why would Anderton have an image card of this? What's so important about the drowning? He pulled out the keyboard and checked for more trinkets left behind. None. And then his eyes switched to something else, a picture. It was of Anderton's wife and son. He looked up at Fletcher, "Where is she?"

----------------

John Anderton walked around the city slums, unsure what to do next. He'd never really been here without a map, he'd never really wanted to. But still he had to find someone who could help him, someone who could help him get Agatha. But how could he do that? To have someone help you means you have to trust them. And trusting was one thing he couldn't do. There was a hand on his arm. He quickly jumped back and turned around; it was a homeless man on his knees. His scraggly and sunken in face stared at him desperately, "Just a little money, please! Please, I'm so hungry…"

Anderton backed away, his blue-green eyes wide with fright. His mind wasn't functioning. Things like this usually didn't bother him, but that was when he was a Precop. When he had a badge. People didn't dare bother him with a badge, and if they did, he at least had a sick stick. Anderton turned and began to run. _Gotta keep runnin'…_ "Please!!" the homeless man cried after him, "God! All I want is something to eat!" His wrinkled face winced, tears dripping down him. He buried his face in his hands and sobbed. He was starving.

Anderton stopped at a trash can out of breath. Suddenly, he heard his cell phone ring. He worriedly looked down at the object, as if he had never seen it before. Hesitating, he reached for it. And as he flipped up the screen he saw Diana's name move across. Answer it? Yes…no…is this how it feels to be a criminal? To tense at every noise, run at the sound of footsteps, have your heart racing all the time. But wait, he wasn't a criminal. Not yet. He was innocent. That's right. He doesn't even know a Leo Crow. Everything's going to be fine. The phone rung again. _Not even the young girl that's managed to save you from getting arrested. Don't trust anyone. Just find the Minority Report_, Hineman's words echoed in his head. _Find the Minority Report…_

Anderton bit his lip, then pressed the talk button. He didn't care what Hineman said, Diana was the only one who could help him right now. "John?" Her picture came through a little fuzzy and her voice crackled slightly, "You okay? You look terrible."

Letting his breath return to normal Anderton nodded. Diana glanced around and looked as if she was trying to avoid anyone from hearing her. "Look, I've got an idea. You can't get into city without getting EYEdentiscanned right? Well, I know this guy and…he can help you. His name is Dr. Solomon Eddie. He's a…eye doctor. A good one at that." She then gave him directions to Dr. Eddie's office and Anderton nodded soaking up all the information. "But, Diana," he began, frowning, "how do you know—"

The screen grew fuzzier and static could be heard louder, "I'm sorry John, what'd you say?" Anderton began to repeat it and Diana frowned, "Look, the reception's real bad where I am. I'll call you back in a better spot, see you." He began to reply, "Good-bye" but he heard the sound of her already hanging up. That was odd. Shrugging, he headed off in the directions she had given him.

---------------

Diana shut the cover of her cell phone and placed it in her pocket. "Man," She said, looking around the area, which didn't have bad reception, "Too close." She then began to move forward and walked to the nearest taxi. She smiled at the man as she hailed him down. "Hey, um, can you take me to Chesapeake Bay?" She asked. The man nodded, "Jump in."

--------------

Anderton cringed as he looked at the sign for Dr. Eddie's office. You wouldn't even call it an office. It was an apartment in a motel. A nasty motel at that. _Eye doctor, huh?_ He thought, _Diana, what are you getting me into?_ Pushing on the door he found it was unlocked and frowned as he entered. Staring around the room he found it was just as terrible and grimy as everything else there was here. Anderton's eyes then focused on a rather lousy holo-screen where an old gangster movie was playing. On the screen there seemed to be a guy who was out of breath, Anderton's paranoid mind connected it to the thought that the man had run out of breath from running from the law. Then, the door burst open. _Pow! Pow! Pow! Pow! Pow!_ The breathless man lets out an agonizing scream as he gets filled full of lead by a gangster.

_On no_, Anderton thought, _never mind. He was the good guy_. His thought echoed through his head, _the good guy…_ That was him. He turned away from the TV as his paranoia kicked in and brought his attention to the foul smelling kitchen where he saw dirty dishes piled waiting to be clean. He moved his eyes swearing that he saw something growing on there and that he was going to be sick. Then, he noticed several utensils that were laid out on a table. He brushed his hand across them, then moved over to a black box and opened it. Seeing the eye removal headpiece Anderton worriedly backed away. He was beginning to understand Diana's idea. Going back forward he picked up the headpiece and began to study it when he heard a sneeze filled with mucus. He turned around, and there was Dr. Eddie, or so he guessed. A tall, sickly looking Swedish man. The doctor wiped the dangling snot off with his hand and rubbed it off on his shirt. "This cold won't go away!"

Anderton frowned uneasily. Dr. Eddie looked up and smiled at him. _He's anxious,_ he thought. The doctor rose his hand for Anderton to calm down, "Don't worry. I could cut open your chest, sew a dead cat in there and you'd never get an infection. Not with the spectrum of antibios I'll be shooting into you."

"That's comforting." Anderton replied, though his face didn't show it, "Uh, look, my friend told me to come here, I have no clue why she wanted me to go but she said you could help me from being EYEdentiscanned."

"Indeed I can!"—Eddie offered a grimy hand, but instead of taking it Anderton just gave a nod—"Doctor Solomon Eddie at your service. I can change your eye pattern so as the EYEdentiscanners won't recognize you as John Anderton."

Anderton frowned, shocked the doctor knew his name, "How'd you?—"

Eddie smiled, "Small world. News travels fast."

Anderton nodded slightly, his mind cursing Diana for directing him to a quack, then headed over to the working utensils. He wanted to know just what would be jabbed into his precious blue-greens. Eddie leaned over slightly and pointed at his eyes, "You do understand I can't just give you new irises"—Anderton began to touch the tools again when Eddie stopped him—"Uh, please don't touch. The scanners will read the scar tissue. Alarms will go off. Large men with guns will appear…"

"Right. I know—" Anderton wasn't able to finish. Suddenly there was a vicious pain in his arm and noticed Eddie had stuck him with something. Out of reflex Anderton grabbed his arm and threw him over to the table and pressed him onto it, holding his hands behind his back. "What was that?" Anderton asked angrily, then took the needle out of Eddie's hand as he failed to answer and showed it to his face, "Huh? What was that?"

"It's an-anesthesia," Eddie managed out, "It's all going to be down hill…"

"You sneak up on you're patients like that?"

"You wouldn't break the hand of a violinist before a concert," Eddie winced, "Please, relax." Anderton's grip loosened and he slowly backed away from Eddie. Painfully the doctor rose up from the table and turned to him, "All I'm saying is that I'll have to remove your eyes…completely."

"No, no." Anger was boiling in him; he was going to hurt Diana if he lived to see her again.

"And replace them with new ones."

Anderton inspected his wound, "I wanna keep the old ones."

"Why?"

He turned his head away from his injection and raised an eyebrow at Eddie, "Because my mother gave them to me. What do you care? They're no good to you on the secondary market anyway."

Eddie raised his hands in defense, "Whatever you say is your money."

He then held out his hand and let John hand him a tiny opalescent card. Dr. Eddie began to speak in Swedish and looked over at another room, "Let me introduce my gorgeous assistant: Miss Van Eyck." Anderton turned to hear the toilet flush and a large blonde woman walk out, a humongous dark mole on her face. She seemed to be singing something in Swedish as she walked over to Dr. Eddie. In fact, that was all she knew. Anderton could feel the lightheadedness rush in on him and he began to feel as if he might fall down. He walked over and leaned over a table. "This is not a lot of money!" Eddie called out. "It's all I could safely move," he replied. Miss Eyck moved forward, the constant chatter of her voice sounding like nothing but gibberish to Anderton, and she placed his arm around her shoulder and carried him over to the patient's chair.

Situating him Anderton asked, "What'd you give me?"

Eddie picked up his eye removal headpiece and began adjusting it, "Smiling medicine. Tell you what, since you and I go way back, I'll give you my Old Pal discount. Whaddaya say? You don't remember me do you?"

A large stupid grin fell across Anderton's face, one he had no control over, "We know each other?"

"Oh yes, we do."

"From where? D.C.?"

"Uh, Baltimore."

"Eastside?"

"Yea," Eddie nodded smiling.

"We go way back." Anderton began to slightly laugh, only, it wasn't funny. In fact, he felt hysterical right now. He couldn't stop laughing. "Solomon P. Eddie M.D.," Eddie continued, "I was a plastic surgeon. You remember? Specialized in burnt victims? Mostly women."

Anderton remembered now, though his emotions of shock were blocked by the concrete smile on his face, "I put you away."

"Oh yeah."

He laughed, "You made those tapes."

"They were performance pieces!"

"You set…" Anderton began to stand up, "your patients on fire."

Eddie reached out and stopped him from going anywhere then forcefully pushed him back down into the chair, "And put them out! Some not as quickly as others, but let's change the subject, shall we?" Eddie placed the eye-removal headpiece on Anderton's head, "The future is much more interesting than the past. Don't you think?"

Anderton lied back in his chair. Eddie looked over as his assistant walked out of the cooler and handed him a plastic bag that contained two perfect eyes. "Oh, Miss Van Eyck. She has already smitten," Eddie looked over at John, "She only has…eyes for you." Dr. Eddie began to place the grippers of the head ornament on his eyelids, pulling them back painfully, "I know what you're thinking, John. How can I do what I do now? Let's just say I spent a lot of time in the prison library. Now that was a great way to avoid some of the more unpleasant aspects of prison life. Confinement was a real education, a real eye opener."

Eddie moved away from Anderton to his computer where a laser came down and scanned John's eyes. Annoyingly, Miss Eyck began chatting again in her foreign tongue. "I mean," Eddie continued, "For the true enlightment, John, there's nothing quite like the experience of, well let's say, taking a shower while a large felon with an attitude you can't know down with a hammer whispers in your ear, 'Oh Nancy, oh Nancy.' Now that was a lot of fun. Thank you so much, John, for putting me in there. For giving me the opportunity to get to know myself better. And now…"

Eddie moved his laser pen to the screen showing John's eyeball, squirming in its socket, "To return the favor."

--------------

"Thank you," Diana told the taxi driver as she handed him her money. The taxi driver nodded, "No problem." He then backed up, and drove off. She smiled looking around at the scenery. There was something about it. Peaceful, warm, filled with love. As she walked down the path and glanced out at the water she could find herself picturing the Anderton family before their lives fell apart. Lara sitting on the side of the beach, a smile on her face and a gentle laugh as John played with Sean in the water. Growling playfully John would pick him up, the young boy laughing to his heart's content. Calling out with each break from his giggles to make an attempt to stop his daddy from tickling him, "Mommy! Make him stop!!"

As she blinked, she felt a tear run down her eye. She ended the thought and told herself she didn't need to think about things like that. Any death was painful for everyone, and all she could think about lately was her mother…She never came back…In fact; she could barely remember how her mother died. That was all she knew. But yet, things seemed to come to her every now and again, as if they were merely boxed away for a day like this.

Diana stopped in her tracks. There, in the driveway, was a white Lexus. "No," she muttered, "not him. Please, not him." Her feet broke into a run. She entered the house and called out her name, "Lara?" No answer. She moved on and heard voices coming from the black room. "…So what? You loose your son; let's see how you handle it!" It was Lara's voice. And to Diana's dismay, she heard Witwer reply, "Lamar Burgess thinks that you left John because he lost himself in Precrime instead of you."

Even though anger burned within her, she couldn't help but feel butterfly's fluttering in her stomach with love at the sound of his voice. She burst into the room, "Lara?" Both Witwer and Lara looked in her direction. And as Diana looked at them she saw their faces unbelievably close, and for once she felt a tinge of jealousy. Lara backed away; her eyes moved back to Witwer angrily, "I left him because every time I looked at him, I saw my son. Every time I got close to him, I smelled my little boy. That's why I left him."—She began to walk over to Diana and hug her. She turned to Witwer, who still hadn't taken his eyes off Diana, and glared—"Now you can leave."—She turned back to Diana—"Diana, what are you doing here? It's been a while."

She smiled slightly, "Yes it has."

Witwer slightly walked forward, "Yeah, Diana. What are you doing here?"

She glared at him, "I was going to ask you the same question."

"I'm doing my job. In fact, I was just about to ask Lara if she'd help me."

"To do what?" Lara spat, "Trap him?"

"No, prevent a murder. Sooner or later you know he's going to contact you."

"I haven't seen him in two years."

"But I've seen three hundred hours of your image he's got stored away."

Diana glanced over at Lara to find she had placed her hand to her mouth, fighting tears. She could read what Lara was thinking: _He still loves me?_

"He's still living with you. And your son. You have to choose, Lara. You have to choose sides now."

Seeing Lara's pain, Diana looked over at him, "She told you to leave, Danny."

Witwer stared at her, "You never answered my question."

"I've come her to talk to Lara," she explained.

Witwer slightly smiled, "There's more to it isn't there?"

"Maybe."

He slightly laughed looking away. "So you're still helping him?"

"Do you think I'm gonna answer that?"

"No, no of course not. That would mean you'd be helping me and we can't have that can we?"

Lara's face changed back to the normal sternness she showed Witwer, and looked over at Diana, "You're helping him?"

"I believe he's innocent."

Lara turned to Witwer, "I believe I've chosen my side, Mr. Witwer. _Now_ you can leave."

Witwer looked at her disappointed.

"Leave, Danny." Diana concurred.

"You know, I truly should stay here and listen to what you have to say. Considering I don't need to let emotions effect my work, but I respect that you're too stubborn to let me do anything like that." He smiled and there was a twinkle in his brown-green eyes.

Diana wanted to stay stern, but she couldn't help but smile back as Witwer turned and left the room. Anderton's words popped into her head, _"How do you do it?" "Do what?" "Get that little smartass to listen to you?" _Her smile grew as she realized the true answer, _because he loves me_. Lara stared at her, a small smile on her lips, "You like him, don't you?"

Diana sharply turned her head, "What? Yes, once. I can't stand him now, though."

"'Cause he sure as anything likes you."

She smiled slightly, "That's not important right now."

Lara raised an arched eyebrow. "I think you two'd make a perfect couple."

"Come on, let's get serious."

"Alright, alright."

"I've been talking to John, helping him out, y'know?"

Lara nodded.

"And I think Witwer's on the right track. It's almost positive that John's gonna contact you. You and me are the only two he has left to trust, and I was wondering, if he came here, would you be willing to help him?"

Lara was quiet for a moment, "Yes…yes I believe I would."—She glanced away, smiled slightly—"I guess I've been trying to tell myself this whole time that divorce was the right thing, but I don't believe it's helped either of us. It sounds as if he still loves me, and I still love him."

Diana smiled also, seeing that it seemed a mistake could never break true love. And then it hit her, she was the same way. She was trying to ignore her feelings, when it was true. She didn't hate Danny. And, deep in her heart, she didn't believe it was him who set John up. "Would you like to sit down?" Lara asked breaking through her thoughts, "I've got some cake in the oven. Would you like some?"

She nodded as she sat down in one of the chairs, "That would be great."

Bringing out the cake and cutting a slice, Lara glanced over at Diana, "Is that all you were wondering?"

"Well," Diana leaned back off the table as Lara set her slice down in front of her, "I wanted to get a little more information about John."

Lara stopped in the middle of sitting down, a shocked expression on her face, "We haven't talked in forever, how can I tell you anything you want to know?"

"Because what I want to know is in the past."

Lara finished sitting down and looked at her rather haggard, "Ok."

"When John joined, was there ever a mentioning of the murder about Anne Lively?"

"No, not that I can remember. But John never really mentioned everything that went on in work."

Diana began to eat her cake, "What about Lamar and John's relationship?"

"They were just like father and son," Lara smiled, and began to eat her cake, "They would always joke around together."

"Has Lamar ever acted secretive to you?"

"No. Where you headed with this Diana?"

"I don't know. I just need to cover all the angles. Just because we trust someone doesn't mean that they're not a suspect. A lot of mistakes are made that way."

"So who do you believe framed John?"

"I truly don't know at the moment. I'm working on it, and I'm pretty sure right now it wasn't Danny."

"What?"

"I know it seems obvious that he did it but, let's face it. He only had three days to gather the knowledge he needed before John's murder was predicted. How could he have figured out the system good enough to do that? Not even John knew about the Minority Report until now."

Lara frowned, "Minority Report?"

"It's when the Precogs disagree on a murder. And a lot of times when they disagree it means that that person may be innocent."

"How do you know if John never knew?"

"I, uh, I've talked to Dr. Hineman recently. John told me that he was going to speak to her."

Lara nodded and continued to eat her piece of cake. As for Diana, she placed her fork on the plate and sighed, "That was great, but, I need to go."—She looked at her watch—"I've still got some more investigating to do before the day's over."

Lara smiled slightly and stood up when she stood up, "Ok. Be careful, dear."

Diana nodded and as she began to walk off she looked back, "Bye." Lara followed her to the door, but as she stepped out and looked in the driveway she still saw the white Lexus. Along with Witwer leaning up against it with his arms crossed. He looked up at her and smiled. "You're still here?" She asked in shock.

Witwer shrugged, "I noticed you didn't have a ride into town. Thought I could help."

She glanced back at Lara who was smiling at her. She then brought her focus back to him, "Well, Lara could always drive me to the city if I needed someone to. You could've left."

"I wanted to." He then opened up the passenger door, "So, what is it, yes or no?"

She sighed and stepped into the car. Smiling, Witwer closed the door and went over to the other side and got in himself. "Y'know," Diana told him as he brought the gear out of park, "I'm only doing this cos this is my only other way to get to the city." Witwer turned to look out the back window as he backed up, "Oh, I know."

"I still hate you," she told him as he began to drive down the dirt road. He smiled and slightly laughed, "I know." That was their only conversation for the whole ride. The rest was silent. And as Witwer pulled the car into the parking lot of Precrime headquarters they found that it was drawing near to dusk. Parking the car he hopped out and opened the door for Diana. "Thank you," she told him as she got out of her seat, trying to avoid his eyes.

But as she stood up, she found herself standing uncomfortably close to him. And her eyes failed to do as they were suppose to do and took a quick glance up at his handsome face. She looked away. Their faces, their bodies, they were so close. And her heard was beating like crazy and she wondered worriedly to herself if he could hear it, because it would be obvious that she loved him then. Witwer leaned forward, and as she looked back at him she saw his lips slightly pucker, but found he merely was starting to say, "You're welcome." He continued to stare at her though. His cheek slightly quivered and his lips moved nervously. Even though she was sure that it was probably the gum, he seemed to look as if he was deciding whether he should kiss her or not. She began to back away to a more comfortable distance and saw the disappointment in Witwer's face.

She then figured that he probably did these acts of kindness to win her back. And in the end the rejoined lovers were suppose to kiss. Well, it didn't work that way. Diana didn't care if she found him so attractive, he wasn't going to win. _I don't love him anymore_, she told herself, _he's just an old boyfriend_. _Nothing more_. She then began to walk off. And only looked back to say, "Good-bye."

"Good-bye!" He called back, and sadly began to walk up the Precrime headquarter steps. What did he ever do to her? Why did she hate him so bad? He tried to be nice. To act friendly, but she only shunned him away. He sighed. Diana herself was having second thoughts. Did she truly have a reason to hate him? To treat him like this? She just told Lara she didn't think he did it. So what's she doing? Stopping, she wiped a tear away from her face. Maybe she was afraid to be around him. Unsure what might happen. And then there was John. Would Danny use her again? Would he make her contact John and get him to fall right into their hands?

She wasn't like that, and she didn't want to lose John's trust. But she knew that half of her wanted to turn around. To run to Witwer and wrap her arms around him and feel his warmth. She could even find herself considering it, but for some reason, she didn't stray from her course. She glanced back and watched him for a brief moment walk into the headquarters. And she smiled. She didn't want to admit it, but she knew she was in love. And maybe that's why she hadn't asked for forgiveness. She had never felt this way before, and it was frightening. She wasn't sure if she could handle a love that she had no cure for.

--------------

There was a knock on the Burgess's house door. Getting up from one of their sofa chairs Mrs. Burgess walked forward to answer it. Opening the door she smiled as she saw Diana. "Why, hello Diana," she said. Diana smiled back, "Hi, look, sorry to come see you two so late but something's been on my mind and I need to speak to Lamar." Mrs. Burgess nodded and turning her head called out, "Lamar! There's someone here to see you!"—She then turned back to her—"Come on in, dear." Stepping inside Diana found her way to the living room where Lamar sat.

Sitting down she looked over at him. "Feeling better?" she asked.

"Oh yes," Lamar replied, "As much as I hate herbal tea it's done something to help me."

She smiled. "That's good. I've been working on this case, y'know, getting interviews, gathering info, looking for clues. And I wanted to talk to you."

Lamar's relaxed face changed, it grew to something worried, "But, you quit, Diana. It's not allowed for you to do something like that."

"Yes it is. When your best friend has been set up I say it's alright."

"Look, I know your good friends with John, and I am myself, but sometimes we can't do anything about the future."

She frowned at him. "That's where you're wrong, Lamar. I can prove that John is innocent. All we gotta do is keep him away from Leo Crow until time runs out."

"How do you expect to do that?"

"I've been helping John. Giving him tips, where he should run, where the precops are going. I can tell him to stay away."

Lamar was silent.

"We both believe John was set up, right?"

He nodded. For some reason small beads of sweat appeared on his forehead.

"Well, through my research I've discovered something."

Diana noticed Lamar reaching for something in his pocket. His breathing grew unsteady.

"It's not…"—There was a sudden pain in her head; she grasped it, her hands beginning to shake—"Witwer…"

Lamar took his hand off his gun. He reached out and held her arm. "You okay?"

She nodded as her body stilled and she looked at him untrustingly, her aqua eyes turned icy, "What's happened to you?"

He looked at her shocked, "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the way you're acting. I'm just coming here to give you a report and to interview you and you're acting like I've come here to arrest you! Now really, we're on the same sides, right?"

"Yes," he agreed rather weakly and sat back down.

"Well, when this prevision first showed up you were protecting John, now you're saying for this murder to take its course. What's up with that?"

"I believed John was innocent at first but, can we let our emotions affect our judgment and let a future-murderer run free on the streets?"

"John is not a murderer. I won't bother to ask what makes you think he is, because I don't care. What I think though, is that this doesn't have anything to do with John. It has to do with another case."

Lamar's heart was racing. He couldn't reach for his gun now though; she already was loosing her trust in him. He would have to wait. Send someone else tonight to get it over with.

"The Anne Lively case. Ever heard of it?"

"No. Not really."

"It was one of the very first cases for Precrime. It jump started our career. You wouldn't happen to know who Anne Lively is would you?"

Lamar nervously shook his head.

"She was Agatha's mother. Wonder why she was murder, huh?"

"Yeah, it doesn't really make sense."

Diana began to stand up, "If I were you, I'd check it out. See if you notice anything."

Lamar stood up and nodded, "Sure. Tomorrow I'll make sure to run a check on the drowning of a woman named Anne Lively. Don't get you're hopes up though."

"Ok, bye," Diana replied as she walked out the door. She didn't bother to mention anything about Lamar's mistake. She was satisfied. For her, the mystery was solved.

-------------

Randal Tauber walked silently down the slums of D.C. He was bald and noticeable blonde whiskers were on his face. But despite his muscular build he had a slim face, and was starving. About a week ago he was kicked out of his job and thrown out into the streets. He lost all his money to way too many beers. His life was terrible. Luckily, it was spring, and at least it wasn't freezing cold outside for him to be miserable. He glanced up at the stars with his deep green eyes.

Tired, he sat down and leaned his back against a brick wall. Then, Randal reached into his worn olive jacket and pulled out an inhaler. Placing it to his mouth he took a deep breath and let the drug enter his system and run through his body. The ecstasy of the drug moved his spirits and he hit an emotional high as he rested his head against the building looking up at the sky and rapidly breathing in and out. A dumb smile spread across his thin lips exposing his yellow tinted teeth. And a small chuckle came out of him.

"You look like a decent man," Randal heard a voice say. He breathlessly looked over, his thick blonde eyebrows furrowed. The man walked forward, "Would you be willing to do me a favor?" Randal's mind spun and for the moment he saw two strangers standing in front of him. He unsteadily got up and felt his head hurt. "Like what?" he replied in a gruff voice. The man smiled slightly, "I'd like for you to do a murder for me." Randal laughed and looked at him incredulously, "Do you think I'm stupid? The DCPD of Precrime would halo me before I could even reach the victim. No way, man."

The stranger's smile disappeared, "I see you're a thinker. I like that. And I understand that you're going to need something a little more convincing"—The man pulled out a card and placed it in Randal's hands—"All you need to do is beat the precops to the murder, run to the nearest air port, buy you a ticket to, oh I don't know, Tahiti and get yourself a new ID. Maybe even new eyes while you're at it. You'll be home free, my man."

Randal stared wide eyed at the opalescent card that had been placed in his hands. One million dollars, man! He was rich! He gave a whistle of amazement, "You drive a hard bargain. I…how do I beat the precops to murdering the person?"

The stranger put his arm around him and smiled, "You're a smart man"—_and even better for the job because you're high as a kite_—"I'm sure you can figure something out. After all, John Anderton has been able to hide from Precrime for two days. I'm sure you're going to do fine."

Randal nodded as the man squeezed his shoulders. "I'm gonna do fine," he repeated to himself. _And after that, Tahiti_. The stranger handed him the directions to the apartment and smiled patting him on the back as he walked off. "Good luck," the man told him with a smile, _you're going to need it_. And for some reason, the man seemed to find a certain joy that Randal wasn't going to come back. _One less mug in the street_, he thought, _no big loss_.

--------------

Diana winced as she tossed and turned in her sleep. She let out unsettling moans and her body shook uncontrollably. Quickly, she shot up out of bed, gasping and sweat glistening on her face. Her body relaxed and she buried her face in her hands letting her long brown hair fall all over her. She had dreamt that as she slept, someone came and killed her. It was terrible. She weakly got up out of bed and walked over to her kitchen and opened up a medicine cabinet. Reaching in she pulled out a bottle of pills. Pouring herself a glass of water she unscrewed the pill lid and took out two white oval pills.

Taking a swig of water she popped one pill into her mouth. And after swallowing that one, she held another mouthful of water and placed the other one in her mouth and swallowed it. Placing her cup in the sink she then turned off the lights and began to walk over to the bed when she stopped and curiously walked up to the large window that showed the urban city that lied before her. The moonlight shone down on her and her pastel purple pajamas, which consisted of a satin noodle-strap shirt with matching pants.

She left the window and crawled back into her bed hoping that she could finally go back to sleep. And at this time, Randal was just entering the bottom floor of her apartment's area.

--------------

Danny Witwer took a sip of coffee as he took out the chip consisting of Leo Crow's murder and placed the chip of Anne Lively's murder in. Sitting back he placed his glasses on and watched as the images flew at him. One after the other, short and incomplete. "Ok," he said to himself, "What are you trying to tell me?"

Working on the computer Jad noticed something. He looked over towards the temple and saw Wally working intently on his computer processing the information about to be given. "Murder…" Agatha's face sunk slightly into the milk and then back up. Their bodies began to shake again, something so painful that Jad had to look away. Suddenly, on the screen above the tank images began to show up. "Let's get started," Witwer muttered getting up and taking out the Anne Lively chip.

Jad watched as the victim's ball began rolling down the glass chute, then drop to the end. The name passed by as Jad began to pick it up, shocked at what it was. His eyes grew big. Witwer waited for an answer, his back to Jad. "Come on Jad, what's coming?" He asked. Jad looked up at him and frowning Witwer turned around. Jad showed him the red ball. "Red ball—It's, uh," he managed worriedly, "Diana, Chief. Homicide. Killer's male, white, late 30's." Witwer's eyes grew big and he rushed forward and took the ball from Jad's hand. Oh God. There it read: Diana Warren.

Jad watched as anger flushed in Witwer's face as the murderer ball rolled down the other chute. He quickly ran forward and picked the other ball up. Randal Tauber. "Ok Randal," Witwer said, "Let's see what you're gonna do to my girl."

"Uh, the location is Diana's apartment. As for the time frame," Jad explained, "We're not sure yet."

Witwer placed the balls over at the large holo screen and pulled the black gloves to scrub the images on. He faced the two screens on the wall of Pollard and James, "Case # 1110 previsualized by the precogs and recorded on holosphere by Precrime's q-stacks. My fellow witnesses for case # 1110 are Dr. Katherine James and Chief Justice Frank Pollard. Are the witnesses ready to preview and validate # 1110?" James and Pollard nodded.

And with that, Witwer began to move his hands directing the images to what he wanted them to do by the sound of classical music. There was the image of Diana, sleeping peacefully. Next, was the opening of her apartment door, a figure walking in. There's a vicious dagger in his hand. Then, they watched as it both show Diana's peaceful face, followed by the angry glee of Randal's. The images flash by and soon there was Randal above Diana, the dagger suspended over her. One of the male precogs spoke out, "You're a pretty little thing. I'd rather sleep with you than kill you but, money's money."

And with one violent motion, the dagger plunged down into her skin. Witwer could see the agony in her face. He winched and looked away. It was too painful to watch. The stabbing continued and to end the images the bloody knife fell from the man's hands and bounced down onto the mattress. Witwer angrily began to scrub the images. "Uh, Chief," Jad began, "We got the time. Eight minutes." Witwer growled under his breath and cursed. "Our main team's gone!" he exclaimed, "See if you can get me a back up team. At least someone to stop this!"

Jad spoke into his headset and looked over at Witwer sadly. "No one else is working this late," he explained. Witwer cursed again, "Get Fletcher and them, tell them that their search for Anderton's over and for them to get here in at latest three minutes." Jad looked at him worriedly, "But—"

"Now!" he exclaimed. Jad quickly began to call into Evanna's ship and speak to her.

--------------

Randal snuck as best he could over to Diana's bed. He became more like a shadow as he craftily moved to her bedside. She stirred a little, and Randal flinched. He wouldn't be able to do it if she woke up. Quietly, and barely even shifting the mattress, he climbed on and crawled to where he towered over her. His grasp on the dagger grew stronger. He then stared into her face as he began to prepare himself to stab her, and found she was beautiful. _Man_, he thought, _I could just stop the murder right now and change plans to something else_. Then, he remembered the million dollars that weighed down his pocket and his mind flashed to Tahiti. And there were other pretty girls out there.

He raised the dagger above his head and gave a wild smile. Whispering softly, he told Diana, "You're a pretty little thing. I'd rather sleep with you than kill you but, money's money." And with that, he began to bring down the dagger—

—When Diana turned from her side and quickly placed a gun at his throat. The dagger stopped at mid motion. Randal's blue eyes widened to where all the white was showing and his mouth opened to form words but nothing came. She glared at him, "I'm glad that money's more important to you cos I'd rather be stabbed than be with you." Randal's face grew into an expression of anger. It was mostly the drug that was affecting him to be like this. He continued to bring the dagger down when Diana pressed harder on his neck and he slightly gagged. "You stab me and I'll blow your head clear off you shoulders," she told him. Randal's eyes showed no saneness anymore, and he continued the dagger in its downward motion. Diana's sure expression changed into worry and felt her eyes begin to water. This was it. The end.

But it was the drug that saved her, maybe something even more than that, because as Randal brought the knife down to stab her he missed and tore her pillow. Now, it was Diana's time for her eyes to grow big. She found herself frozen with fear as Randal jerked the dagger out of the pillow uncoordinated. His nostrils flared as her rose the sharp object again and Diana began to pull the trigger of her gun when her door was completely knocked off its hinges and went flying across the room. She slightly looked over and gladly noticed it was Witwer with his agents. She never knew she could be that glad to see him. "Diana!" He called out looking over at her, and then he spotted Randal perched over her. She saw his thick eyebrows turn down into a frown and his face turn to a rage she had never seen before.

Without thinking, Witwer charged forward and then leapt on top of Randal sending both of them off the bed. Diana worriedly sat up and looked over at them as Witwer had Randal in a pinned position, beating the living daylights out of him. "What are you trying to do?!?" he yelled punching him some more, "No dipstick is gonna hurt her like that! You hear me? No one!" Randal winced and brought his hands up pleadingly. Witwer grabbed him by his leather jacket and rose him slightly off the ground, "Now, who sent you?"

Diana looked at her windows to see the glass shatter into a zillion pieces as her team of precops came bursting in. Knott rushed over to her, placing a hand on her shoulder, "You ok? Witwer said you were in trouble and for us to hurry over." She nodded breathlessly, "I handled the situation as well as I could until I could get some back up."—Knott smiled and she smiled back, not realizing how much she missed her old job—"Who I'd really be worrying about right now is the poor guy that Danny's lighting into."

Witwer shook Randal furiously, "Who paid you?!?"

Randal gave a bloody smile, "Now, now, how can I keep that a secret if I tell you?"

Witwer began to rear back to punch him again when he flinched, "Ok, ok, I truly don't know who ordered me to kill her. He told me what to do, paid me, then left!"

Witwer began to ask another question when he felt one of his agents grab him and pull him off the beaten criminal and held him back from any other harmful intentions. Fletcher grabbed Randal and held him tightly by his wrists. Several of the other precops got out their sick sticks. "By mandate of the District of Columbia Precrime division, I'm placing you under arrest—" Fletcher began but Randal jerked away from him. There was a wild look in his green eyes. He slowly backed up, glancing around at everyone in the room. "No," he said with an odd glee, "you're not gonna catch me. I'm not going to get halo'd. I'm gonna run. Y'know where? Tahiti."—he brought out his card of money—"Y'see that? That's one million dollars! No, I'm a free man." And with that, he backed up all the way to the broken windows, and backed up even more. He backed up to where there wasn't a floor anymore, and found the rush of excitement as he plunged through the sky and fell to the ground. Killing himself half-way down from a heart attack.

No big loss.

--------------

Witwer listened painfully as Randal screamed to his death plunging through the night sky down several stories. He hadn't wanted the man to die; he still needed information from him. Turning to his agents and precops he looked around the room and saw Diana running towards him. Shocked, he watched as she wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face into his shoulder. Cautiously, he placed his arms around her. "Oh Danny!" she cried, her voice muffled by his clothes. She was sure now that she loved him, and she knew as Randal had held that knife over her that all she wanted was to be with him.

Witwer felt her body rise and fall rapidly, and he realized she was crying. He held her tighter, "Shhh. Everything's going to be all right now." Diana took her face out from his shoulder and looked at him with bloodshot eyes. "I'm so sorry," she told him teary-eyed. He frowned, "For what?"

"For acting the way I have been. It's just, when something like you're best friend being framed happens, you question who you've been trusting and, well, it seemed like you and John had a little competition between each other and…"

He shook his head, "I promise you that I haven't done anything to John."

"I don't know what I've been thinking lately to give you the cold shoulder like that. I guess I've been trying to forget. To forget about us and just move on. But, I can't. I mean, when I saw that knife over me and knew it would be over, the first thing that ran through my mind was you. And I didn't know that you'd save me from this. After how I've been treating you…"—She sighed heavily—"And now I know that I want you, and I need you. I thought that I could cure my craving for drugs with coffee and other things but I've realized that I'm over drugs now."—She smiled and a small tear fell from her cheek and slowed down as it crawled halfway down her face—"The truth is Danny, I'm addicted to you."

He returned the smile and brought out his hand to wipe away the tear, letting his palm rest on her cheek for a few minutes. Then, he came forward and placed his lips on hers and kissed her. They stayed like that for awhile, and then broke apart. And as they stared into each other's eyes, they heard the sound of clapping begin to arise in her apartment followed by cheers. They looked around at the precops and the four Federal agents and smiled. Witwer brought his eyes back to hers and said, "So, this is what your apartment looks like.

She nodded then turned to see the precops boarding their ship (Including a whoop of a cheer from Knott as he exclaimed, "Finally, we get to eat!!") and the four agents motioning to Witwer. He began to break out of her grasp and leave when she tightened her grip on him. "Please," she begged, "Stay." He looked over at his agents and told them to go on without him. He then turned to her and looked over at her windows, "After all, she needs some help with this draft in here. Can you feel that? It's terrible!"

She laughed. That was witty Witwer for you.


	7. Chapter 7: Smooth Criminal

**Disclaimer:** _I do not own any characters or parts from the movie "Minority Report" nor am I affiliated with the writers, directors, producers, ect. I am not making a profit from this story. I will say that I own the character Diana Warren, and that no one else can use her unless it's with my permission._

**P/L:** It is the year 2054. A so-called "pre-crime division" is working around Washington DC. Its purpose is to use the precog(nitive) potential of three genetically altered humans to prevent murders. But soon a Federal agent comes snooping around headquarters in search of flaws. Human flaws. And the main man on his list is John Anderton, a firm believer in the system, that is, before it came after him. With the help of one of his closest friends, Diana Warren, Anderton has to prove that he's innocent, even if it means that the system will be shut down. But there's a secret that's being hidden from them all, and it's right in front of them.

* * *

**Ch. 7: Smooth Criminal**

_Fractured images…they swarm in and take over my brain…cruel, evil intentions of a twisted soul that have imprisoned me in this place. The time is near…oh so near. And things are becoming clear. John is beginning to understand…and even I am. My mother's murder will be revenged. I know now._

_An old man sits down in a chair…the Anne Lively murder is placed on the wall with a projector…Anderton's apartment…a young man stands next to the images, dark hair, dark eyes…He makes a speech to the old man, and when finished he stands straight and proudly for a moment, quiet, then begins again when—_

—_The old man shushes him, "You know what I hear?"_

"_What?"_

"_Nothing. No footsteps coming up the stairs. No hovercraft out the window. No clickity click of little spyders. No one crashing through that door. And do you know why I don't hear any of those things, Danny? Because right now, the Precogs can't see a thing." Gunfire…a growing circle of red blood stains the dark haired man's shirt…The old man stands over him…another gunfire…Oh God…Danny…_

_---------------_

A smile was on Diana Warren's lips as she thought about last night while running over the clippings of all the murders that Precrime had solved in their years of existence. Thanks to Witwer, she had been able to access this room, considering she no longer had the right to walk about Precrime Headquarters like this. She had to thank Witwer for everything that he had done for her, though. And she wasn't sure that without him she could've been able to get as far as she has. Flipping the paper's corners across her thumb she read the bold print articles. Surely there was something about Anne Lively. She frowned. There was something so familiar about this murder. And she wanted to find out what it was.

She knew one thing though; Lamar had something to do with it. She ran through another stack of papers that dated as far back as 2048. Suddenly, she found what she was looking for as the words appeared crossing the cover of the front page. MURDER STOPPED BEFORE IT HAPPENS!! NEW BUSINESS CALLED PRECRIME SAVES A WOMAN NAMED ANNE LIVELY. She threw down the papers and began to read the article sitting down on one of the many cardboard boxes that decorated the article room. She frowned concentrating on every detail. The importance of how Ms. Lively was never interviewed to give her opinion, and how Lamar never speaks of saving her life but merely "helping" her.

She was interrupted in her observation though, by the sound of breaking windows (ever since last night that seemed to be something to haunt her, the sound and everything.) and some yelling by Wally. She shot up from her position and listened to hear Wally wail even more. She quickly tucked the article into her pocket and burst out the door of the small area and ran down the clear halls towards the Analytical Room.

-------------

Danny Witwer began his daily routine at Precrime Headquarters by once again studying Leo Crow's murder. Crow's cries seemed to echo across the building as he ran through each image. But as he studied the murder something appeared that he hadn't noticed before. He turned to Fletcher, "Fletcher, take a look." Turning around the muscular blonde got up from his chair and moved over to the screen. "There's four people in this room, not three," Witwer informed.

"Four?" Fletcher questioned, "There's Anderton, there's Crow, and there's the man with sunglasses."

"There's the man with sunglasses outside the window," Witwer brought the image of the man forward the moved it away with a swipe of his hand then brought up another image, "There's also, someone here…in the mirror." He enhances the image.

"Yeah. It's definitely female."

Witwer, frowning with concentration, ran through the images again, trying to find a better view. Then, he noticed another image, and zoomed up on it. It was a clearer picture of the girl. Her body was pale and for the most part she was bald. "What does that look like to you?" he asked Fletcher.

"I don't know."

"It's Agatha. He's coming here to get her." Witwer took the image off the screen and turned to find the black woman who didn't want him in Anderton's seat right behind him. She was slightly smiling as he walked off.

--------------

Diana rushed up the ramp to the Analytical Room and saw through the glass a group of people. _Great_, she thought annoyingly, _what's going on now_? Opening the door she pushed through the crowds of people to where she had a good view of the Temple. She then noticed the broken window and Anderton's rolling chair on the other side. Not to mention the milk-less, and Agatha-less, tank. There was a pain in her head as she stared at Witwer chasing Wally and then she noticed how Arthur and Dashiell's mindless blue eyes stared straight at her. She winced.

"What does he want with a Precog?" Witwer asked yelling over Wally's frantic sobs. "What do you think?" Wally cried running around the tank hoping that for some reason Agatha might pop up, "So he can kill anyone he wants to without anyone knowing about it!"

"But there's still the other two!"—Witwer paused—"Wally?"

Wally didn't listen. His mind spun with worries about poor Agatha. Eventually, him and Witwer ran into each other. "Wally!" Witwer grabbed the man by his arms, "the other two can still function, right?"

"You don't understand!" Wally sobbed, "They're a hive mind! It takes all three for their predictive abilities to work."

"Are you telling me they can't see murders anymore?"

"Maybe if he'd taken one of the males. But Agatha, she's the key. She's the one they listen to, the one with the most talent. She takes care of the other two."

"Jesus…Agatha."

As Witwer began to walk over to Fletcher Wally clung onto his back and grabbed his shirt begging, "Please bring her back."

"Find out where that pipe leads! I want every team underground now!" Fletcher barked out to the gaping Precops. "It doesn't matter," Witwer told him, "He wins."

"I'll send my men in Evac. We'll stop him in the reservoir." Fletcher turned back to the Precops to give another order when Witwer stopped him.

"Gordon! She's in the room with him when he kills Crow. She's already a part of his future."—Witwer continued to walk towards the Analytical room and looked up at Jad—"Jad, put everything you've got into finding that room and we stop a murder."—he turned back to Fletcher—"How much time we got, Gordon?"

"We've got: Fifty-one minutes, thirty seconds."

Witwer turned and walked out of the temple, he winced with aggravation. Diana hurried over to him, "What happened?"

He looked over at her, "You're little 'friend' just stole Agatha."

As he continued past Diana her face grew in shock as she realized something, "The Minority Report…that means he's gonna—" She stopped herself. Once Anderton got the Minority Report she knew what he'd go after next…Agatha's sister. And she didn't want Witwer to know about that. She probably shouldn't have even mentioned the Minority Report at all while in his presence. Witwer stopped and slowly turned around. He frowned at her, "What did you say?"

Diana's eyes fell to the ground and she found herself worried that Witwer might actually get Anderton halo'd because of her, "A Minority Report. It's when…it's when the Precogs disagree on something. One might see the vision differently than the other which means that that person might actually have an alternate future. That's what Anderton wants to find out."

Witwer's eyes grew big, "My God…so is this why you stood up for John? Because you knew he might have an alternate future?"—he glanced down slightly and licked his lips then looked back up at her—"Why didn't you tell me about this?"

Diana tried to find the words to explain but she couldn't. She would have to tell Witwer about her past, and she didn't want to think about that. She could barely remember herself how she knew what a Minority Report was.

"Diana," Witwer walked forward and placed his hands on her shoulders. She could feel her heart skip a beat as he looked into her sky blue eyes, "Where would Anderton go if he wanted to see Agatha's vision of his murder?"

Diana glared, "I won't tell. You'll halo him anyway."

"Please, Diana! Just—"

She shook her head. Witwer smiled and slightly chuckled, "You've got a lot of loyalty to not give Anderton away. Not even to your boyfriend. I just hope if I ever get framed for something you'll stand up for me just as well as you do him."

She smiled also as he walked off to tell Fletcher and the rest of his team his new found information. As for Diana, she began to walk out of the Headquarters, soon to begin her search for Anderton. What she didn't know as she walked down the glass ramp to the elevator, was that this might be her last time to see Witwer. Alive, that is.

----------------

The music pounded in Anderton's head as Rufus Riley hooked Agatha up with wires to hack into her previsions at his business: Rufus' Dreamweaver Headspa. Agatha moaned nervously as she lied in the chair. Anderton bent down to get eye level with her and said soothingly, "Agatha, I need to see. I need to see what's going to happen to me. And then we'll go." She smiled at him dazedly as Rufus, a man that seemed to continue with the old style of the hippies, made the final touchs on the thousands of wires that stuck to her head.

She jerked and let out a small gasp as the images of all her past murders poured out. Anderton turned around. "Wow," Rufus said shocked, "she works."

"Slow it down," Anderton commanded.

Rufus turned back to Agatha, "How do I slow this down? Should I hit her on the head?"

The Precog's body twitched and squirmed as Anderton watched his future murder. Anderton turned back to Rufus, "Are you recording this?" Rufus looked at him in shock and ran over to his key board, "Shoot!"—then, pressing a button he looked up at John—"Yeah, recording." Anderton walked towards the screen as the familiar images poured out, waiting for something different to happen. "I know this already," he seemed to say to Agatha, "Come on, move on."

"Good-bye Crow," Agatha called out saying the words the images would say. And with that, the Anderton on the screen shot the man named Leo Crow. The screen then grew blank. Anderton's eyes grew in shock. "What happened?" he asked turning to Rufus. "I dunno," he replied. Anderton repeated himself, this time a little more irritable, "What happened?"

"I…I…I gu—" Rufus tried to say.

"Well where's the rest of it?!?"

"I guess that's all of it!"

Anderton turned to Agatha and dove on top of her. He leaned close to her face and stared into her lifeless blue eyes, "Where's my…Minority…Report?"

Agatha looked at him blankly. Anderton could feel his patience failing. "DO I EVEN HAVE ONE?!?" He yelled then repeated softer, "Do I have one?"

"No," Agatha replied.

"What?" He was shocked.

"No."

Anderton slowly got off her and just as he did she sat straight up as another prevision came and she gasped, several small screams escaping her lips. "Agatha?" Anderton frowned. She turned and grabbed him, moaning painfully, "Can you see?"

"See what?"

She let out another cry and bent backwards where she was seeing the screen upside down. Anderton looked up to what was showing. "Anne Lively," He muttered, "You want me to see who killed Anne Lively?"—he was silent for a moment, thinking everything over—"That's why I need to speak to your sister…she knows…"

-----------------

Anderton drug Agatha along beside him down one of Washington's dark alley ways. The echoing sound of rain pounding down could be heard beyond the shelter of the roofs to many of the buildings. She moaned. "Come on!" Anderton told her and looked down at her as she clung to him, "I'm tired of guessing where she might be! Agatha,"—He turned her head to look at him—"just tell me, where is your sister?"

"My sister," she replied, "is dead."

Anderton shook his head, "She' can't be dead!! Dr. Hineman said for me to find her!"

"She's dead…_she's dead_…"

He shushed her. There was something in the shadows; at least, he thought there was.

Agatha breathlessly looked around. Silence, nothing but the rain. Then, her blue lifeless eyes peered into his, "And you will be too, John. If you don't move."

Anderton frowned and before he even realized it there was the sound of someone being shot. Turning to the brick wall he saw a rugged looking man fall to the ground out of the shadows. Anderton looked around to try and find the shooter, but saw nothing. There was a cock of the gun again, but Anderton didn't know where to run. "John Anderton?" The voice came from the corner of one building. Anderton was about to reply when he realized that he shouldn't. The shooter walked out, and Anderton saw it was a woman. Her hair was short and a dark blonde, her eyes, like Agatha's, were a cold blue.

Anderton frowned, "How do you know my name?"

The woman seemed a little hesitant at answering, "I…I saw you…"

"What?"

"In the vision I had. That man, he was going to kill you."

"What's your name?"

"Karen Lively."

_Bingo_, Anderton thought.

Karen gave a frown as she saw the pale and thin being clasping to Anderton's body. She took a small step forward, and immediately Agatha took a quick step back, bringing Anderton with her. And in that moment, Anderton thought he heard a small whimper come from Agatha's lips. "Mm…my sister is _dead_," she said quietly under her breath. Karen continued to move forward and with a tinge of sorrow she asked, "Agatha? Is that you?"

Anderton didn't understand why Agatha seemed fearful of Karen, but decide not to let her get any closer. "Stop," he told her, his dark brown eyes telling her not to pull any tricks, "I don't want to upset her." The Precog nuzzled him, whispering something in his ear. Karen gave a look of shock at this rudeness, and said indignantly, "Stop? I haven't seen my sister in years and you tell me to stop?" Anderton glanced down at his watch as she spoke to him, and quickly glanced up. "Mind if we walk while we talk?" he asked while pulling out his black umbrella.

-------------

"So exactly," Karen began frowning at Anderton as they pushed through the crowd on the sidewalk, "why do you want to know about me as a child? Why, in fact, do I even have to come with you?" Anderton glanced back at her, her clothes and hair plastered to her face by the rain, the questions not exactly registering in his mind like they should have. "Your mother's murder ties in with me being framed." She nodded her head slightly, her mind churning, showing she was understanding everything now, "Well, as you know, my mother was murdered—"

Anderton stopped amongst the crowds and turned to her showing that as his time dwindled out, so had begun his patience. "It's not what I _know_ I want to hear about!" he told her angrily as she cowered down slightly, "Tell me what I _don't_ know!" Karen's face showed nothing but a blank look as her friendliness towards Anderton shattered. She knew all that was going to happen to him, so why was he being so mean to her? All she had to do was walk off, and leave him lost in the truth. After all, she didn't even make Anderton have to pay her for her predictions!

"Tell me who murdered your mother!" he demanded. The shyness Anderton saw when he first had met Karen began to shine through again, "I…I…I don't know." Anderton's eyes grew big and she saw he was fighting to hurt her right then and there. "You don't know?" He asked her under his breath, trying to sound calm.

"No! I don't! He was wearing a mask for God's sake!"

Anderton rolled his eyes wondering why he was going through this. A chuckle slowly came out of him. He just found it so funny how things had built up, and now they're falling to pieces. Maybe he should just run over to Precrime headquarters and tell Witwer to lock him up and throw away the key! Glancing over at Karen as his chuckle subsided; she was staring at something. Following her eyes to that direction, he saw what she was looking at. "That's the guy," Anderton said with slight amazement, "The man in the window." He watched as the billboard for Rēvo slowly escalated to the sky. He looked down at his watch. THIRTEEN MINUTES. Grabbing her arm they rushed into the hotel closest to the rising billboard.

--------------

Danny Witwer stared at Rufus's equipment he had used to probe Agatha's mind. He was beginning to feel impatient, knowing they were just wasting time in this silence of inspection. His fellow agents, spread across the room, occasionally glanced back at him, hoping he'd find what he was looking for. Because in all honestly, as they stood there observing bits and pieces of mechanical technology and giving a "hmm" every now and then, they had no clue what they were doing.

Witwer glanced up at Rufus taking his eyes off the computer screen. "What was he looking for?"

Rufus's eyes grew big as he tried to come up with an explanation, a diversion to keep the savvy secret agent's hands off his friend. "Well, um. I didn't understand it exactly…"

Clicking a small button Witwer brought the image of Leo Crow's murder up on the screen and glanced back at Rufus, "Something like this?" Rufus looked at Witwer in shock, unsure how he figured out how his equipment worked. "Well, yeah, I guess." He replied shrugging. "Well," Witwer said to himself with a smug smile, slowly turning back to the screen, "John Anderton, let's see if you even have a Minority—" His smile faded as his eye came back up on the screen. His four agents all turned away from their inspections and mystified, watched the images as they poured out.

Witwer's mouth hung slightly open as he watched Anne Lively's murder. Recognizing it from the first night he had come here. Not even bothering to turn his head away from the screen he asked, "This is what he wanted to see?"

"No…" Rufus told him slightly confused with his interest, "This is what _she_ wanted him to see."

The murder quickly ended, abruptly going black. Witwer turned to him, "I'll need a copy of this."

-------------

"Hey," Anderton began waiting patiently at the registration booth in the hotel. The clerk seemed to ignore him though. His eyes focused on the cash register, a slight smile on his face. "Hey!" Anderton repeated. The clerk's tattooed face turned towards him expressing no emotion. "Rooms are ninety-five plus tax," he told him rather annoyed. Karen glanced over at Anderton as she watched him spin the register in his direction.

"You mind if I take a look at your register?" Anderton asked. The clerk quickly turned it back to face him. "Yeah, I mind." And with that, Anderton quickly pulled out his .45 revolver spinning it on the table where the barrel pointed towards him. "How 'bout now?"

"Help yourself," he told him, quickly spinning around the register. Anderton flipped away from the video of a girl stripping on to the registration chart, giving information on all that are staying in the hotel at this moment. And then, his finger stopped on an L.F. Crow. He frowned, looking at the picture, looking at the man he was about to murder. "He's here," Anderton clarified, not exactly speaking to anyone in particular. Karen frowned herself, "John, you say you're not going to murder him but, why don't you just end it here? Leave and forget about Leo Crow."

"I have to know," was all of his reply as he began to help Agatha up as she stumbled. She looked up at him, her blank expression staring through him, "Anderton, leave." The Precog seemed to be in a distant state of mind, her eyes not exactly focusing on anything. He wrapped his arms around her stabling her. "You have a choice," she told him weakly, "Walk away. Do it now."

"I can't," Anderton repeated, "I have to know. I have to find out what happened to my life."

"Please—"

"Agatha, I'm not going to kill the man. I don't even know him."

"Yes but," Karen interrupted, "You don't always have to know someone to want to kill them. This Leo Crow, I feel, is someone you've wanted to lay your hands on for a long time."

Anderton turned to her, his eyebrows furrowed, "Look, I'm going to figure this out and that's that. Fate is not our destiny if we know that we can change it. Look at the system!"

"The system is a failure, John!!" Karen continued, her voice becoming weary, "Can't you see? Its failure was its success."

Anderton ignored her comment, what was she talking about? He turned to the clerk, "What room is Crow in?"

"Ten-o-six."

"Come on," Anderton told Agatha gently, then repeated glancing over at Karen, "Come on." Agatha, followed by Karen, stared worriedly at the ex-Precop. Anderton looked at their expression, their emotionless icy blue eyes staring right at him, and looked away. He looked right over at the lounge area of the hotel, just to see an old woman smoking on her pipe, a deep chuckle rumbling in her throat.

--------------

The three of them, Karen, Agatha, and Anderton, cautiously walked up to the door of room 1006, afraid of what existed behind the door. Was Leo Crow really that dangerous? None of them were sure, but none wanted to figure it out by the sound of gunshot. It seemed almost haunting the way the dull green door slowly came closer to reach, standing on the blood red carpet. Anderton's hand reached out, formed in a fist, knocked twice on the door, then gently turned the handle. It was almost complete silence as the door creaked ajar. Anderton glanced at his watch. FIVE MINUTES.

Placing Agatha next to the wall, he pushed the door completely open, then turned to Karen signaling to stay where she was. She nodded. And with that, he stepped in. It seemed like too much silence, too quiet. And Anderton was afraid of that. But truly, there was nothing to fear. The room was clean, as if no one had slept in it, stayed in it at all. He hurried and checked the bathroom, expecting to see accessories, but it was empty. It was all empty.

"John," Karen's voice broke the silence making him slightly jump. He walked over to her as she stared at the numbers on the door. Then raising up her hand, she twisted the six on the gold plated 1006, turning it to a nine. She gave a crooked smile, "Wrong room." Anderton frowned and looked down across the hall, and saw room 1006 in all its mystery. Walking over to it he cautiously checked the numbers, making sure there were no more tricks, and found the six was glued in tightly. With that, he kicked open the door, bursting into the room. And saw what he wanted to see.

Rushing over he grabbed Agatha pulling her to the room with him. As they walked in, Karen quietly shut the door behind her and looked around the room. Someone definitely lived here. Clothes were askew along with an unfinished meal which Anderton avoided. Setting Agatha down she looked up at him in fear, "Leave…leave!!" Anderton knew she didn't want the murder to take place, but he knew even more that he had to find out what he had to do with Leo Crow. As he stood up, he walked over to a black brief case that sat on a glass table. Figuring it would conceal the evidence he needed, he opened it up. Only to find it was merely dark clothes. Throwing the clothes back into the brief case his eyes looked across the room.

And that's when he saw it, the unmade bed covered with thousands of pictures. He stood over the bed as what seemed minutes hung in the air, shocked and confused with the photos of so many children. His eyes crossed over each child, some posing for the picture and others completely oblivious of their image being taken, when he saw the tip of a certain photo. "Anderton?" Karen interrupted, "Let's just leave. You don't have to go through with this."

Anderton ignored her. His hand reached forward and suddenly, without even picking up the picture he knew why he was pursuing Crow. It was because of the fear that had hung onto him. He had known what this was all about from the very beginning, but didn't want to accept it. Slowly, he raised the photo into sight. "Oh God," his eyes widened at the impact of the picture, "Sean…my son." It was a small photo booth picture, one his son didn't look very happy in. Both Agatha and Karen frowned at him.

"Everyday," he told them, his eyes not leaving the photo, "for the last six years I've only thought about two things. The first was what my son would look like if he were alive today. If I would even recognize him if I saw him on the street. The second was what I would do to the man who took him."—he paused, knowing he should've listened to the two Precogs and gave a small chuckle—"You're right. I'm not being set up." Agatha's gasps for breaths grew stronger as she felt the fear, the death, creeping closer into the room. She could even almost feel the cold clutch of death's icy fingers wrapping themselves around Anderton. With great effort she attempted crawling onto the bed, "You have to take me home."

Karen took a step forward also. "Yes, let's leave and take my sister home." Anderton wasn't listening, painful thoughts swamped his mind impairing his hearing, and all he heard was the beating of his own heart. Looking through the pictures he pulled out another shot of Sean. This one a group of them, including Crow. "You said so yourself," Anderton told Agatha as she crawled over to him, "There is no Minority Report. I don't have an alternative future." A small smile of the inevitable came across Anderton's face which Karen was never quite sure of being anger or joy, "I am going to kill this man."

Agatha grabbed his hand and looked up at him with desperation, "You still have a choice. The others never had a chance to see their future. You did." And as Agatha said this, a fear came over Karen, and she knew that Crow was behind her. So silent and quite, Karen couldn't believe there was a pause as the man saw strangers in his room. "Who are you?" Crow asked. Anderton looked up at him with anger and she quickly jumped out of the way as Anderton rushed over to the man. A long and painful scream erupted in Agatha as Karen fell back against the wall in fear, watching as Anderton grabbed Crow and threw him onto the bed.

"Six years ago, Baltimore, you grabbed a kid at Francis public pool in the West End." Anderton's words were almost drowned out by Agatha's screams, and to Karen's surprise she suddenly realized that her own screams were leaking out. "Did I?" Crow asked, "I don't remember anything about that place—"

Anderton picked Crow up from the bed and slung him into the mirror which shattered letting pieces of gleaming light fall to the ground. "Who am I?" Anderton demanded, "_Who am I?_ You know who I am!!!"

"You're…you're somebody's father."

"His name is Sean!!" And as Anderton told him this, he slung him into the table with the brief case sending all that was on it, along with the table, to the ground.

"I told him I was a policeman. I…I told him," Crow tried to get out through the punches that came at him constantly, "I needed his help. It wasn't so bad. I sang him a song! I bough him a pretzel! I bought him a pretzel! He was happy! He was happy!" Anderton's hand tightened on Crow's throat as an excited fear came to his stomach. He looked at the man and ceased from his attacks, "Is he alive? He's alive!" Crow is silent. Anderton shook him hoping somehow it would bring answers. "Where've you got him? Is he alright?" Anderton shook him harder, "Tell me!!! Where is he!?"

Crow looked at him in fear, his words coming in raspy from the slight closing of his esophagus. "I put him in a barrel and sunk him in the bay…it floated back up and I took him out…I was gentle…I was gentle…" There was a pause as Crow tried to take in more air, his heart pounding a million times faster than normal, and he repeated once again in a quieter voice, "…I was gentle…" Anderton let up on the man's throat and with that Crow gave a gasp of relief. Rolling back to where his back leaned up against the bed, Anderton stared at Crow with a look of horror and sadness at such a twisted mind. "I'm sorry…" Crow told him breathlessly, "I'm sorry…I'm so sorry."

Anderton's face grimaced, as what Karen thought first. But she then realized it was no chuckle of anger, a grimace of pain…Anderton, the big bad Precop, was crying. "How could you do that to my boy?" Anderton questioned through his tears, and with that, kicked Crow in the stomach sending him on his back. Then he was on Leo Crow again, punching, kicking, beating the man at each sound of his helpless cries.

And then, Anderton stood up letting Crow back away and get up himself. Anderton glared at the murderer, knowing that his fate, as he stood in front of that giant glass window, was going to be a lot worse than he may have predicted for doing that to his son. He quickly pulled out his .45, pointing it at Crow. His breath unsteady with anger. Anderton's eyes glanced over at the slowly rising Rēvo billboard, everything was true…there was never a flaw in the system…his watch slowly counted down the few seconds of Crow's life. Eleven…ten…nine…eight…

Agatha watched Anderton battle between what his heart wanted and his mind wanted. "You can choose," she said quietly, "You can choose…" Five…four…Crow's face tightened and he closed his eyes, waiting for the bullet…three…two…one. Beep! Beep! Beep! Silence. All except for Anderton's watch. His face calmed, even though inside he was shocked at what he had done, at what he had not done. His breath remained unsteady, the pain, the fear, the anger all surfacing. And tears began to swell up in his eyes although he tried to hold it back.

No gunshot was ever fired. Crow looked at Anderton shocked also. Why was he alive? Anderton was supposed to kill him!! "You have the right to remain silent," Anderton whispered through the lump in his throat, "Anything you say or do can be used against you in court of law."—Anderton sniffed, he couldn't believe what he was doing—"You have the right to an attorney present now and during future questioning. If you cannot afford one, we will appoint you one. Do you understand these rights?"

Crow looked at him incredulously, "You're not going to kill me?"

Anderton slowly lowered the gun, knowing what he had chosen was right. "Do you understand these rights?"

"You're not going to kill me? If you don't go through with this my family gets nothing! Okay? You're supposed to kill me!! He said you would."

Anderton frowned, "'He'? Who's 'he'?"

"I dunno. He called me in my cell, told me I'd be released if I went along, and my family'd be taken care of."

"If you did what? _If you did what?_"

"If I acted like I killed your kid. Okay?"

"If you killed my kid?"

"Look, if you don't kill me my family gets nothing. Okay?"

"What about the pictures?"

"They're fake. He gave 'em to me. Okay?"

"Now listen to me. Y-you tell me, who was it set this up?"

"I don't know. Come on!"

Anderton's voice was quiet and remained calm as he walked up to Leo, "Who was it who put you up to this?"

"I didn't see his face! I tell you who it was and my family gets nothing!"

"Tell me, who made you do this?"

Agatha gave a moan as Leo reached forward pulling the gun barrel to his stomach. "Kill me! Do _this_. Kill me!"

"Tell me."

And strangely, all of a sudden, Anderton's cell phone rang. He looked up at Leo.

"Leo, let go of the gun."

"Kill me!"

The phone continued the ringing, bringing noise into the sober atmosphere.

"Let go of the gun, its okay."

Leo's hands loosened on the barrel.

"Let go of the gun. That's it. Let go of the gun."

This time, Leo's hands moved from the barrel completely and without taking his eyes off him, Anderton reached for his phone. Flipping open the cover he saw Diana's face come over the holo-screen. "John!" She cried, "Tell me, please, tell me. Is it over?" John looked at her pleading face and she saw he had been crying. He nodded, "It's over."

"And Crow?"

"Crow's alive."

Diana gave what seemed like a smile, "Good. I knew…"—He words trailed off for a moment and she paused, the smile fading and glancing down. She looked back up at him and regained the smile—"…you wouldn't do it."

Anderton frowned. "What's happened?"

Diana was silent. She could end the conversation right now, just hang up. But she didn't, and she knew she wouldn't. Anderton needed to know. "It's coming back."

Anderton frowned, "What? Who—"

"Everything! It's all coming back. I can see it now, what happened. I can't believe it…"

"Diana—you're not making any sense—"

"Oh, but for the first time in my life I am, John. I couldn't understand it before, I didn't understand myself before now…But I know. I know who set you up, I know everything."

"What?—"

"My name isn't Diana Warren, John. I can remember it all now, I see it!! I was home alone that day…oh God…do you know how this feels!"

"Well then, who are you Diana?"

"I thought you'd have figured it out, John. You're a smart man."

Anderton's eyes grew big and all of a sudden he knew.

"I'm Agatha's sister. Those shakes I've been having, it's not from my cravings of drugs, I'm seeing what Agatha's seeing. What Arthur and Dashiell are seeing. Can you see John? Can you see?"

Anderton's mind flashed to Karen, and anger rose. "Oh God…Why didn't you tell me this before?"

"You're not going to kill me…" Leo said over their conversation, thinking out loud.

"I was afraid John! After all these years I finally know my past! Why my mother died and how…and I know who I am John. Abigail Lively."

"Then tell me! Who set this up? Who put Crow up to this?"

The screen began to shake, and Anderton saw snow begin to appear across the screen. Then, Diana's face disappeared, and all he saw was snow and the crackle of a lost connection. But she was still there, on the other end. He heard her mutter something, something like, "Danny…" and the screen cleared up for a moment, just in time for him to see she had dropped the phone, and her run off in the distance.

Anderton stared at the phone, letting the noise continue for a moment. How did he miss it? So much information ran through his head he almost felt like it was going to burst. Diana? A Precog? And what happened? Did she see something that was going to happen? He had to find her, and the only way of doing that was to leave here.

Crow repeated his words, "You're not going to kill me…"

Anderton hung up and placing the phone in his pocket shook his head, "Good-bye Crow."

And as he turned Leo dove for the gun, grabbing the barrel. "Anderton wait a second!" Agatha gave a blood curdling scream as gunfire went off, sending Leo backwards into the window. Then, with the crash of breaking glass, Leo continued his fall backwards, all the way down several stories. Anderton couldn't believe it. What had happened? Was it him who pulled the trigger? Did he actually do it or was it suicide? He stepped forward through the gun smoke and looked down at the body as sounds from people all over rose from the shock of the dead man's fall.

Stunned Anderton turned away from the window, and began to walk to the door. "John!" Karen rushed over to him and grabbed his arm, "I can explain!" Anderton looked over at her and seemed to look right past her, jerking his arm out of her grip. He then walked over and grabbed Agatha. And once having her, he began to move back over to the door. Karen stopped him in his path and gave a look of pain, "I'm sorry I tricked you, John but you have to understand! I was low on money, and I knew you were innocent—"

Anderton gave a slight smile, "Cosmic Karen, from Cosmic Karen's Hotline, right? You're one of those people who steal others money by lying to them. You're really good at that you know." Anderton was right at the door now and he saw Karen's eyes watered. "I didn't see it until now," he continued, "I guess with my thoughts only on myself, Crow, and who set me up that I wasn't exactly paying attention to everything. But now I understand. You found me there in that alley way, and shot hearing Agatha's comment. After that you lied in that believable way you can, and now you're here."

He opened the door and began to walk out when she followed him. He turned and looked her in the eyes, only then did she see the anger that was in him. "And you're not going to leave from here either. Not with me anyway." And with that he slammed the door in her face, not exactly caring what she thought about him. That was the last Anderton ever saw of Cosmic Karen Owens.


	8. Chapter 8: Who Framed John Anderton?

**Disclaimer:** _I do not own any characters or parts from the movie "Minority Report" nor am I affiliated with the writers, directors, producers, ect. I am not making a profit from this story. I will say that I own the character Diana Warren, and that no one else can use her unless it's with my permission._

**P/L:** It is the year 2054. A so-called "pre-crime division" is working around Washington DC. Its purpose is to use the precog(nitive) potential of three genetically altered humans to prevent murders. But soon a Federal agent comes snooping around headquarters in search of flaws. Human flaws. And the main man on his list is John Anderton, a firm believer in the system, that is, before it came after him. With the help of one of his closest friends, Diana Warren, Anderton has to prove that he's innocent, even if it means that the system will be shut down. But there's a secret that's being hidden from them all, and it's right in front of them.

* * *

**Ch. 8: Who Framed John Anderton?**

"Doesn't make sense," Danny Witwer stared at the tons of Polaroid evidence that lay on the bed, "If you were a child killer, you took these pictures, would you leave them on the bed for anyone to find?" Fletcher thought of the precognition as he let his chin rest between his thumb and index finger, "They could have been put away. Anderton could have found them." Witwer turned to him, a picture of Crow and Sean in his hand, and stared at him through his glasses, "What kind of cop were you before this?"

"Treasury agent. Eight years."

"This would be your first actual murder scene."

"Yea."

"I worked homicide before I went federal."—Witwer laid the photo booth pictures down onto the bed—"This is what we call an 'orgy of evidence'."

Witwer took off his glasses and glanced over at the young woman who sat sullen in the far corner of the room. He saw the anger in her, the way her eyes wouldn't meet the gaze of her interrogator, agent Price. She hadn't spoken in the whole amount of time they had been there. In a way, that's what had frightened him the most, unaware of what malevolent thoughts might be running through her mind. But Witwer understood now that there was something more than what was in the precognition. Otherwise, why would Cosmic Karen be getting interrogated when she was never in the prediction?

His eyes went back to Fletcher. "Do you know how many orgies I had as a homicide cop, Gordon?"

"How many?"

"None."

Placing his glasses in the breast pocket of his shirt Witwer moved over to the .45 caliber revolver and squatted down inspecting it where it laid. His eyes then moved to the broken window in front of him, and then to Fletcher again. "This was all arranged."

--------------

"Today we saw the first murder in the six years of the Precrime experiment…" Lamar Burgess stared with undivided attention at the TV as Leo Crow's murder broadcasted on CNN. His face appeared haggard, he couldn't understand how it had happened; things were suppose to have all worked out. Over the noise of the television the phone rang. "Sadly enough this failure was human."—_Ring!_—"The Protection team simply didn't get there in time to stop the murder. But the murder happened exactly as the Precogs had predicted it would." Celeste slowly walked up to her husband, and Lamar suddenly realized the phone had stopped ringing. "I think today's event put a human face on the Precrime system." The TV continued. Celeste stopped in front of him, "Danny Witwer's on the phone. He says it's important."

Lamar didn't move. He didn't even acknowledge his wife's presence. He just couldn't believe it…he couldn't understand it…what had gone wrong? He glanced away down to the ground, silently telling his wife he didn't want to take any calls. Celeste looked at her husband sympathetically and sat down in a chair diagonal from him. "Lamar?" The TV continued its drone in the background. "Precrime has still successfully intervened in hundreds of homicides…"

Lamar took the phone out of his wife's hands and placed it on his ears. "What?" he asked.

"Lamar," Witwer's voice came through worriedly, "there's something wrong. We're chasing the wrong man."

The president of Precrime placed his hand on his wife's, somehow hoping her touch could calm him. "What?"

"I don't wanna say over the phone. Meet me at Anderton's."

And quickly, Witwer hung up. Lamar glanced over at his wife, confused and worried over what Witwer had discovered.

-------------

Diana looked up at the hotel in which Crow was once staying at. There was still a fairly large amount of people among the scene of Crow's abrupt stop into the concrete. Luckily however, Crow had already been cleaned up and placed in the Dispenser leaving only a large stain of blood in his remembrance. The crew for CNN had already invaded the area, wanting questions in which the Precops would ignore. Diana quickly crawled under the yellow restriction tape blocking off the rest of the civilians.

"Hey there! You! Stop!" Diana recognized the voice and turned around. The Precop rushed up to her and she smiled. "Hello Jeff." He looked at her nervously and said, "Diana? What are you doing here?"

"I need to speak with Danny."

"I'm sorry but you know the rules, no one without a badge can enter."

Diana glared at him, "I think both you and I know nobody ever follows the rules anymore." And with that, she pushed past him.

"Diana, wait!" Knott called after her but it was too late, she had already walked into the hotel. He finished his sentence, quieting his voice knowing she wouldn't hear him anyway. "Witwer left five minutes ago."

--------------

Diana burst through Crow's apartment door and watched as every cop and agent turned their heads staring in shock at her appearance. "Danny?" she called out. Fletcher frowned, "Diana? What—" She interrupted him quickly walking over, "Where's Danny? I need to speak to him."

"You, uh, you just missed him. Why?"

Her blue eyes grew big, "What?! Where'd he go?"

"Calm down. It's not like he's dying."

Diana glanced down, the images flooding her brain and muttered, "You'd be surprised actually."

"What was that?"

"Nothing…Did Danny go to John's apartment?"

"Well yeah, but…how'd you know?"

Upon hearing this, Diana quickly turned around and began to run out the door. She glanced back and called out to Fletcher, "Sorry Gordon, I got to go!"

Fletcher watched as she disappeared from sight, a deep frown on his face. _Boy_, he thought, _was that weird_.

--------------

Witwer, wearing his reading glasses, moved past Anderton's desk over to Lamar who had just entered the apartment. "We recovered that from Leo Crow's hotel room," he explained, picking up Anderton's .45 and holding it to where Lamar could see it. Lamar gently took the gun, sentimentally examining it, "I remember when I gave this to him, back in Baltimore. He was one of those cops, still thought he could make a dent in all the bad there was in the world."—His hands closed around the gun, and he closed his eyes lowering his head. Giving a sad sigh he then looked up at Witwer—"The irony is, sometimes it's the very vision that makes you want to make the world a better place that turns you into something you can't even recognize anymore."

Witwer frowned, not exactly sure what Lamar meant by that. "Well," Lamar finished, "Let's get a move on. I've got a press meeting later today and hope not to miss it." Witwer pulled out a chair for the old man, "Please sir." Lamar gladly sat down and getting comfortable he said, "Tell me what you have." The young Federal agent then moved over to the chair behind Anderton's desk which contained Anderton's video equipment. Placing a video chip into the cylinder shaped movie player he pointed at the screen as the image began to play on Anderton's wall. "This is the murder of a woman named Anne Lively," he explained.

Lamar watched, staring at the horrific images of the woman as she was brought to her death under the water. He glanced over at Witwer, "John told me about this. You got this from containment?"

Witwer nodded, "Yes. This is from the twins, Arthur and Dashiell. Agatha's stream is missing." He then reached forward stopping the prevision, and reaching for another chip. Taking it, he blew the dust that might have collected off it and placed it in the movie player. "Now this one," he continued pointing at the screen once again, "is from the cyber parlor. Anderton downloaded this directly from Agatha, and Rufus Riley recorded it." Lamar watched again, as the same events appeared before his eyes. The same people, the same murder. He chuckled slightly at Witwer's overacting and glanced over at him, "It's the same prevision!"

Witwer stood up with a slight smile, amazed at Lamar's ignorance, "Not quite." He then moved over next to the screen and turned to him. "Look at the surface wind across the water. Watch the ripples…"—Witwer glanced over at the image and pointed the direction of little waves on the water—"moving away from the shore." Once doing this, he walked back over to the desk clicking over to Arthur and Dashiell's vision. "Now the second image. This is the one from containment," he continued, "this is what Art and Dash saw."—Witwer moved back over to the screen, a crooked smile coming across his face from his discovery—"Watch the water. The wind's changed. The ripples are moving the other way." And once again, Witwer's finger traced the flow of the water, showing the difference. Taking his glasses off he moved back over to the video equipment, "This murder's taking place at two different times."

-------------

Diana anxiously watched as familiar signs for advertisements appeared as she slowly made her way towards Anderton's place in one of the maglev cars. If only she could speed up, to move faster where she could pass all these other vehicles. But the maglev was powered to where speeding couldn't happen, and the car wouldn't pass the speeding limit once it was accessed. After all, the police were too busy with Precrime to worry about such things. "Oh please!" she begged, the images of Witwer's death repeating once again in her head like shards of glass rubbing against each other, "Let me make it there in time."

She glanced down at her watch in which she had placed the time that she had left. COUNTING DOWN: FIFTEEN MINUTES. Biting her lip she looked around at the other maglev cars that surrounded her, cursing them in her mind knowing they were slowing her down. Diana then turned on the radio, hoping it could somehow release her mind from the repeating murder. It didn't however, as she turned to the oldies station and heard "Smooth Criminal" by Alien Ant Farm playing.

She began to sing to the lyrics, unaware that her anxiousness had altered the chorus, "Danny are you ok? You ok? Are you ok, Danny? Danny are you ok? You ok? Are you ok, Danny? Danny are you ok? You ok? Are you ok, Danny? You've been hit by, you've been struck by, a smooth criminal!"

--------------

"According to the Sentry," Witwer continued, leaning on Anderton's desk, "Anderton was watching this at containment right before he got tagged." Lamar nodded understandingly, "Well I know. He came to me, told me about the missing data stream."—A small smile came across Lamar's face and he pointed at Witwer—"He was concerned that you might find it." Witwer chuckled and moved back over towards the screen, "Well he was right, I did find it. It was inside of Agatha the whole time, so the question is: Why would someone want this erased from the data file?"

Intrigued at what Witwer seemed to be questioning, Lamar urged him to move on. "Danny, tell me what you're thinking."

Witwer walked towards him, a matter-of-factly look placed on his face, "I'm thinking someone got away with murder."

Lamar frowned. "How?"

"Well Jad told me that the Precogs sometimes see the same murder more than once."

"It's called an echo," Lamar informed.

"Jad called it Precog déjà vu."

"We teach the techs to identify and disregard them."

"Yeah but," Witwer paused, chuckling under his breath, "what if a technician only _thought_ he was looking at an echo? What if what he was looking at was a completely different murder all together?"

Witwer thought he saw some fear in Lamar's blue eyes, but quickly dismissed. "I don't understand," he confessed.

"All you'd have to do is hire someone to kill Anne Lively, someone like a drifter, a neuroin addict," Witwer excitedly spilled out the information as if containing it in his mind had been too hard, "someone with nothing to loose. Precrime stops the murder from taking place, halos the killer, takes him away, but then, right then, someone else, having reviewed the prevision, commits the murder in exactly the same way. Technician takes a look, thinks he's looking at an echo."—Witwer waved his hand across his face—"Erases it." There was silence. Witwer looked beaming at Lamar, proud of what he had figured out.

"Of course," Witwer continued walking in front of the projection of Anne Lively's murder, Lamar felt a hidden shock run across him, "it would have to be someone with access to the previsions in the first place, someone fairly high up—"

Interrupting him Lamar placed a finger to his mouth, shushing him, and Witwer turned around. "Do you know what I hear?" he questioned, his index finger pointing to the sky, "nothing. No footsteps up the stairs, no hovercraft out the window, and no clickity click of little spyders. And do you know why I don't hear any of those things, Danny? Because right now the Precogs can't see a thing."

And right then, at that moment, Witwer knew for sure who had truly set John Anderton up. And he knew that these were his last seconds to be alive. He closed his eyes, thinking of Diana and how he never got to say good-bye. And then he heard the sound of a gun being fired—

—and felt nothing. There was no pain, nothing at all. Witwer would've thought death would be very painful, but luckily, it had killed him instantly. He couldn't believe it, and after a prolonged silence, he heard something fall to the floor. He opened his eyes.

And what he saw shocked him. There was Lamar, frozen as his right shoulder bled slightly, Anderton's gun lying on the floor. And, behind Lamar, was Diana. A small tear rolled down her face as she finally spoke to the old man, "You were wrong." Grimacing, Lamar grabbed his shoulder and turned to face her. "What?" He asked in shock, "What are you talking about?!? He's the one you're supposed to shoot!" Lamar pointed towards Witwer.

Diana lowered her gun and walked forward. "Oh no. The Precogs can see, Lamar. At least, this one can."

Both Lamar and Witwer frowned. "What?" Witwer asked.

She stopped right in front of Lamar, "October 14, 2048. Anne Lively left the house in order to get her daughter back, leaving her other child at home, alone. The child was old enough then, where she didn't need to be called a child. She could drive and had a job of her own, but she stayed anyway. You see, she missed her little sister too. But her mother never came back, and neither did her sister. A mean man knew that without this girl's sister, there would be no precrime. She was the strongest of the three. And if he didn't have her, he couldn't be where he is now."

"Stop," Lamar murdered.

"And that's why the girl's mother never came home. The mean man had to get rid of her, shut her up. But how could he do it without the Precogs seeing? Easy, he hired a John Doe to do it for him. Knowing that the Precogs would see the murder. Precops come, they halo the killer, and leave. Leaving the mean man and Anne Lively by themselves, all alone. And that's when he does it, the mean man changes into the same outfit as John Doe, and committed the murder in exactly the same way.

"He knew the techs would think it was an echo, and would ignore it. He had fooled them; he had fooled the two other Precogs, but not Anne Lively's daughters. They were going to see the murder no matter how he did it or tried to hide it. The mean man realized this too, remembering the daughter left at home, and ran. He went to find her. And he did too. She was just about to get into her car when she saw the mean man coming towards her. She ran too. But it was hopeless, the mean man caught her. And after that, he erased her memory."

"Stop," Lamar begged.

"He erased anything having to do with her sister, with her mother. He couldn't have killed her, although he wanted to. But what he didn't know, was that he did. He turned Anne Lively's daughter into someone else, creating a whole new childhood in her mind, changing her name. He lied to her, telling her that she was in the witness protection program, and talked her into getting new eyes. And then, six years later he tried once more to get rid of the daughter, paying a neuroin addict to commit the murder. But that didn't work either. Precrime saved her. But now…"

"Please, just stop…"

"That girl remembers. She knows her name is truly Abigail Lively, and she knows that she's truly a Precog also."

Lamar's face grew into a look of shock. "What?! You—you're a Precog? How?"

She smiled. "Because, Hineman never let you have all the children that survived to be what they are today. She knew, even before you murdered Anne Lively, that you were out for the benefit of yourself, and not the Precogs."

"I can't believe this. This wasn't supposed to happen…" Lamar muttered glancing away. The thoughts of the past and what he thought he got away with swamped him like the crashing ocean waves swallowing sand in high tide.

"Look," Diana continued, "I'm not holding any grudges. I'm not saying I still like you either, but the fact is if I wanted to kill you I would've already done it. You've killed my mother, you've made my best friend America's Most Wanted, and you just nearly killed my boyfriend. You're not going to get away with this."

"…this won't happen…" Lamar continued under his breath.

"I'm going to have to turn you in." She told him not hearing what he had said. Reaching into her pocket she felt for her cell phone when images flashed before her eyes like fireworks exploding. She saw herself running, and she saw her cell phone lying on the ground of an alley way, broken. There was no way of reaching the team. Another picture shot through, this one fractured and incomplete. Her gun was no longer safely in her hand….gunfire…

Lamar and Witwer watched as her eyes grew distant and hollow, no longer present in this world. And if they had looked down to where her hand was, they would've noticed it was barely twitching. Diana saw another image, her face grimacing and she cried out with pain. There was a flash of crimson…she was falling…gunfire…blood…

Her eyes closed, she didn't move. "But you can choose…you know what is going to happen…choose…" And then, her hearing picked up a voice, young and strong, "Oh but I have." Diana quickly opened her eyes in fear and in an instant saw Lamar spin away from in front of her. And in that moment there was gunfire, it all happening so fast that Diana didn't even realize it had happened until she felt the immense pain in her chest. She stood there dazed for a moment, crimson swallowing the vibrant blue of her shirt. And she saw Danny, standing before her, smoke coming from the metal barrel of Anderton's .45 that he was holding. His beautiful eyes large with fear and pain as they looked into his beloved's crystal blue. The moment seemed to hang in the air, frozen in time, and then Diana fell.

She hit the ground hard seeing stars flash before her and her head felt flooded and dizzy. It was a struggle to sit up, and she found her breathing grow heavy. There was the sound of a gun dropping to the floor and she felt the presence of Witwer before her. She felt his strong arms wrap around her and she relaxed as he held her slightly upright. "D-Danny?" she weakly spoke, "Wha? Why?" It was the first time she had seen Witwer so vulnerable. She wasn't sure if she liked it. "Diana," just speaking her name brought tears to his eyes, "I…I didn't mean to get you. I was aiming for Lamar and he moved! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" He glanced away trying to fight the pain that ripped his heart, and in that moment Diana wondered who was truly in more pain, him or her.

She smiled slightly. "It's okay."

"No, no it's not. We're going to get you to a hospital. Just hold on."

"Danny, it's okay." She felt a lump growing in her throat what she thought was the size of a baseball. A tear fell down her cheek. "I've had the best time of my life—and I must also say the worst—in these last few days. I don't think I could ask for more. I'll be fine."

"But Diana, can't you see? Hold on. Don't let go. I don't wanna be responsible for your death. I'm not sure if I could live with myself." He ran his hand across her hair and gave her forehead a gentle kiss.

She smiled again, not wanting Witwer to act this way. A pool of blood had already made its way upon them, the crimson permanently staining Witwer's white work shirt. Diana rose her hand up and caressed his cheek, the blood from her hands leaving a handprint. She stared lovingly as his tears fell down on her shirt. "Oh my love," she sweetly told him, "please don't cry. I can wash my bloody hands. We'll start a new life, you and me, together."

Witwer held her closer, cursing himself, Lamar, and the world in particular for not being able to change what he had done. "All I know," he told her, "is that I love you. And I won't let you go."—He shook his head—"If only I was thinking. I was just acting on impulse and I was so angry. If only I hadn't grabbed the gun…"

Diana brought her hand to his mouth and shushed him, "Don't get started again with that 'if only' junk. It was inevitable. I saw it happen before you even knew what you were doing."—she chuckled—"Is this familiar or what? The photon milk…maybe I'm just accident prone or something."

"Diana…"

"Now you understand why I said the Precogs are burdened with the future, cos I was. And if I dwelled upon the 'if onlys' then I'm not sure if I could've made it this long and remained sane." She came forward using all her strength and kissed Witwer. "I love you," she told him.

"No, it's not over yet!" he cried as her body grew limp in his arms, and he said more softly, "Stay…"


	9. Chapter 9: In Too Deep

**Disclaimer:** _I do not own any characters or parts from the movie "Minority Report" nor am I affiliated with the writers, directors, producers, ect. I am not making a profit from this story. I will say that I own the character Diana Warren, and that no one else can use her unless it's with my permission._

**P/L:** It is the year 2054. A so-called "pre-crime division" is working around Washington DC. Its purpose is to use the precog(nitive) potential of three genetically altered humans to prevent murders. But soon a Federal agent comes snooping around headquarters in search of flaws. Human flaws. And the main man on his list is John Anderton, a firm believer in the system, that is, before it came after him. With the help of one of his closest friends, Diana Warren, Anderton has to prove that he's innocent, even if it means that the system will be shut down. But there's a secret that's being hidden from them all, and it's right in front of them.

* * *

**Ch. 9: In Too Deep**

Witwer closed his eyes for a moment, taking in what all had happened. It didn't seem real. Only a few minutes ago she had saved his life. _She_ saved him from not dying. But him, Danny Witwer, with the gun in his very hands, couldn't save her from dying. In fact, it was by his hands that this came upon them. He cursed himself, wishing he could take those things back. He slowly opened his eyes, turning to face Lamar. Witwer's face grimaced with anger and he stood up.

Lamar stared back, his cold watery eyes unemotional. He had won. Everything was working out for him, no matter who he had left bloody and bruised along the way. _Or dead_, Witwer thought to himself. "It was you," he growled, Lamar gave a pretended look of shock; "you killed her." The old man shook his head, "Oh I don't think so. Last time I checked it was you who held the gun that killed her." Witwer could feel the anger exploding in him and he began to charge forward when Lamar held up the very gun that had killed Diana. He stopped in his tracks and looked at Lamar with fear.

"I'm not going to let you try and kill me again." Then suddenly, there was the explosion of glass breaking, and as shards fell to the ground so did Precops. They swamped Witwer and two held him back as he began to struggle to break free. Lamar holstered Anderton's gun with a smile. "How? How could they have known?" Witwer cried. "Obviously," Lamar answered, "Agatha has finally been retrieved." Witwer glared, "You arrogant bastard! You won't get away with this!"—Struggling, he turned to Fletcher—"Gordon! Arrest him! He's the true murderer here! He's the one who framed Anderton!"

Fletcher shook his head. "Sorry Chief, but I believe it was _you_ who we saw was about to kill Lamar. Why would Lamar want to frame Anderton anyway? They're almost like father and son!"

"Exactly," Lamar agreed, "And I have to say it is very upsetting to know that Anderton will have to face the Department of Containment…as will you."

Witwer lunged forward but was quickly pulled back by the precops. Lamar turned to Fletcher, "He seems to be in an unstable state. I feel like the desire to control Precrime has pushed him over the edge. Don't listen to whatever he tells you." Witwer began to glare at the old man.

"Gordon!" It was Knott. There was fear in his voice as he called out to the leader of the team. Fletcher turned to his voice and his heart jumped. There lying in front of Knott was Diana in a pool of blood. "Oh my God!" he exclaimed rushing over and knelt down. "Is she okay?" Knott shook his head, "I don't know."

"Well find out!" Fletcher stood up and turned back to Witwer and Lamar. "How did _that_ happen?" he asked, pointing back to Diana. Witwer began to speak when Lamar interrupted him, "Diana had figured out what Witwer was trying to do, and came to stop him. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to stop his actions in time to save poor Diana's life."—He looked over at Diana sadly, and Witwer knew he was faking his emotions—"She was one of my best cops too." Witwer growled, "Liar."

The two cops holding Witwer frowned, was that truly right? Didn't Witwer love Diana? Fletcher couldn't understand it, why would you kill someone you cared for? But Fletcher didn't question, he trusted Lamar. So he pulled out the halo, pressing a button where the compact form spread into the shape of headphones. Then he spoke in a serious tone, "Danny Witwer, by mandate of the District of Columbia, Precrime division, I'm placing you under arrest for the murder of Diana Warren and the future murder of Lamar Burgess."

Although Witwer resisted, the halo still crept closer to his head and right before Fletcher clamped it on, he gave a glare to Lamar and said, "You will pay." Then with that, the halo made contact to his head and he felt a shock, everything going black.

----------------

It actually seemed more like a dream as Witwer observed his surroundings. His body wouldn't seem to reply to what he told it to do, and it all seemed like he was merely the audience, watching as he was placed in his suit and strapped to the back of his Containment cell wall. He heard the click as the halo secured his head to the back. It all felt so strange though, he knew he was looking around the room, but his eyes didn't move. He screamed as loud as he could, cursing everyone he could think of, but no words would come out. His mouth didn't even move at all!

And then, he began to be raised to his confinement. "Don't do this Gideon!" He cried, hoping his attempts weren't completely futile, "It's Burgess! He did it! John was only framed because he knew too much! Then so did I, and Diana got killed because of it!"—Witwer could feel tears of frustration run down his face, even though nothing came—"Please, you've got to hear me!!"

But Gideon of course couldn't, he merely smiled watching Witwer be placed where he, as Gideon believed, rightly belonged. "Welcome Danny," he smugly said, "It's a whole new world on the other side, huh?"—he paused, almost like he was waiting for an answer he knew wouldn't come—"It's actually kind of a rush. They say that you get visions; that your life flashes before your eyes, that all your dreams come true." And then Witwer was fastened into what could be truly called his coffin, since that's where he would be spending eternity.

And right before the darkness came, as Witwer was turned and directed to his place in the towers of convicts, he saw a familiar face. Looking at the name it read: J. Anderton. It just didn't seem right, how evil would seem to win this time. Lamar had eliminated those who had known too much, those who would oppose him. After all, Witwer was a federal agent! He had chosen this job because he wanted to protect the innocent, to stop things like what happened to his father. And he had failed. His "coffin" attached to the top tower of the criminals and the light right above Anderton lit up reading: D. Witwer #1111.

"Gideon!!!" he cried with one last attempt as reality faded beyond his grasp, "_Gideon!!!_" But the grinding blast of the pipe organ drowned out any noise worth hearing, and Witwer returned to the vast darkness. The halo on his head lighting up to activate the life-system that kept him alive in this dream state, creating a golden ring above his head.

---------------

"Danny?" a voice called out to him, "wake up, Danny…" He opened his eyes; everything seemed to come in so blurry at first, almost like he was actually seeing the world for the first time. And then things focused, and he saw Diana crouching before him. "Diana—" he felt a rush of excitement when suddenly he remembered all that had happened, "you're not real…you can't be! You're dead."

She smiled, "That you will have to decide on your own. Have faith, Danny."

Sitting up, Witwer reached into his shirt pulling out the rosary. He stared at it for a moment, his mind fading back to his father. He closed his eyes and suddenly once he opened them he was there again, back in Dublin. He was fifteen again, church service had just let out and he, his mother, and his father were smiling as they began to step down the cement steps. But then a black figure came out of nowhere, a gun in his hands. Then everything repeated again, Witwer and his mother were pushed out of the way of the bullets as his father moved in front of them. And then he fell, his body crashing to the ground like a rag doll. Witwer's mother screamed as he quickly rushed to his father's side.

Blood slowly dripped down the steps as he tried to grasp his father's last words. "Take care of your mother, Danny," the weak voice said, "and anyone else along the way. Remember me…and don't forget what you've learned…" His father's large hands placed his rosary into young Witwer's. And Danny held it tightly as he watched his father's body go limp.

"'When everything else fails…faith is what guides the future'," Witwer spoke as a small tear ran down his cheek, the world around him returning to a vast void of darkness, "And look where that's led me Dad! I've failed! I've failed you, my country, my love! Faith?"—he gave a small chuckle—"I believe it's a little late for that." Then he gave the rosary one last tender kiss, and then threw it into the darkness, hoping he would never see it again. "It's never too late," Diana spoke; she smiled, "I want to show you something." Witwer reached to grab her hand, but it merely passed on through. "Follow me," she continued.

The void around them changed again. Witwer looked around and found that they had come to a familiar place, a cozy little cottage down near Chesapeake Bay. Lara is talking on the phone with someone as Anderton pulls up in his red Lexus. She seems worried. "He's no killer, Lamar," She says into the receiver right before he hangs up. "I know," Lamar replies. The images weren't exactly complete, but the next image shows Lara allowing Anderton and Agatha into her house.

Now it was just Lara and Anderton, as they sat on a bench overlooking the bay. "They used Sean," he told her shaking his head, "They wanted me to think Crow killed him. But he didn't. No, he didn't." Lara frowned, "Well why would they set you up?" Anderton shook his head frowning, he wasn't even sure himself. Suddenly a light came on in his expression, "Because I found out about her."

"About who?"

John frustratingly brought his hands up to his head and winced, "How could I have not seen this?"

"Seen what?"

"Anne Lively." He quickly gets up from his seat and heads into the house with Lara following. The image moved to where Anderton, Lara, and Agatha were in Sean's room. "Dr. Hineman once said to me," Agatha explains, "'The dead don't die. They look on and help.' Remember that, John." She then begins to speak of their son, Sean, the light of the sun behind her giving an angelic glow. And Anderton and Lara begin to cry, to hear of their son's future, of what could have happened, was too much. "There was so much love in this house." Agatha concluded.

"I want him back so bad," John said in between tears, sitting on the floor now as he places a hand to his head. Tears swell in Agatha's eyes, "So did she. Can't you see? She just wanted her little girl back. But it was too late. The little girl was already gone."

"She's still alive?" Anderton asked.

"She didn't die, but she's not alive."

Anderton moved forward, placing his hands on the window seat Agatha was sitting on. "Agatha," he spoke to her, "Who killed your mother? Who killed Anne Lively?"

"I'm sorry John," she replied, placing a hand on his cheek, "but you're going to have to run again."

"What?"

"RUN!!!" She screamed, a held out yell.

And in that minute, precops burst in, and the images slowly change into something else. And as what Witwer just saw, he knew that was the past. This new vision that was coming, it was the future.

They were now on the balcony of the Willard Hotel, the very place the acceptance of Precrime was to be taken. Lamar appeared on the balcony as he walked with a seemingly casual stride. He stopped at the concrete railing, grasping tightly to it as one hand was held up to his ear. Leaning forward he looked down into the dark void below him, and then into D.C., highlighted by the lights of people in their homes. He looked back for a moment, then threw whatever was in his ear into the darkness below.

Something must have made a noise, for Witwer watched as Lamar quickly turned around. Then another person appeared, this one clothed in a black pullover, the hood covering his face, hiding his identity. They spoke for a while, but suddenly a fear and helplessness came over Lamar's face, and he seemed to be pleading with the man. And then, the dark man slowly drew his gun, and spoke the last words Lamar would ever hear: "Precrime is at an end, Lamar…and so are you, paid in full." And then, gunfire, point blank on the center of Lamar's forehead.

The dark man turned as the body fell limply to the ground and reentered the hotel. Then the image faded, and once more Witwer returned to black void. And there was Diana before him again. "Can you see? Remember this, Danny," she told him, slowly beginning to fade, "And remember me."

"No! Don't leave! Not yet!" Witwer pleaded, but Diana moved her hand and placed it on his cheek. And in that moment he wished he could remember how it felt for her to touch him, for he felt nothing. He moved his hand up to her translucent one, and it passed through to touching his own cheek. With a smile she leaned forward, closing her eyes as she began to kiss him. But as her lips came to reach his, she dissolved into the nothing that surrounded him. And Witwer was alone, again.

--------------

"This is all my fault," Lamar Burgess explained, coming forward to Lara and embracing her. He was only wearing a white button up t-shirt and slacks, considering she walked in as he was in the middle of dressing for the gala ball they would be having at the Willard Hotel. Kissing her gently on each check she replied solemnly, "There was nothing anyone could do."

Lamar studied her eyes for a moment, making sure there was no hidden meaning behind what she said. "Lara…uh…" He began, then turned taking her hand and led her over to the couch in his office. On the coffee table right in front of it was a rather small white box, inside was Anderton's belongings. "I thought you might want to have those," Lamar explained as she walked up to the box and sat down onto the couch. Lamar paused for a minute, peering inside the box himself as he finished buttoning up his shirt. Somehow Lara's grave behavior unnerved him.

"I haven't worn this in years," Lamar told her as he motioned to his shirt which he was still buttoning, "Just wanted to make sure it fits before tonight."

"You look great," Lara told him, picking up one of Anderton's picture frames as he turned to move in front of his mirror. Lamar watched as he saw her reflection pick up Anderton's .45 out of the box.

"I knew he was having trouble for some time," he said, "but I did nothing about it." He began to continue on when his secretary walked into his office, "Excuse me but the guy from USA Today is here."

"Tell him not now."

"He just wanted a few minutes before—"

"Not now!" Lamar raised his voice rather agitated.

Nodding the secretary quickly left, leaving Lamar and Lara alone again. "I thought you were retiring," she told him as she lifted up yet another picture of Anderton's which had him, her, and Sean together. She couldn't help but wish that happiness could return. Lamar grabbed his overcoat and put it on, "I was, but this incident with John made me realize the fragility of all this."—he cleared his throat then held out his arms in an almost shrug-like gesture—"This is John's legacy as much as it is my own."

He turned and moved back over to his desk where he grabbed one of the pins to place on his overcoat, "Now I have an obligation to protect that." Turning back to her he walked over as he placed the pin on his overcoat collar, "Lara, I know how difficult this is for you but, maybe you can find some closure in the fact that John finally found the man who killed your son." He turned back to the mirror as he tried to place the back onto his pin.

"Who's Anne Lively?" Lara asked.

The point of the pin missed the back it was supposed to go through and stuck Lamar's thumb. The impact of the question hitting his like a two ton anvil. He sucked on his thumb for a second, the pain slightly dulling. "Who?" he questioned.

"Anne Lively," she repeated. "John was talking about her right before they took him."

Lamar turned to her and tried once more to place the back to his pin, "I don't know who that is."

"John said something about him being set up because he 'found out about her.'"

"Well, we know why John was tagged," Lamar explained moving forward.

"He also said Crow was a fake."

"What are you trying to say?"

She stood up and walked towards him. "Lamar, do you know the reason why John came here to work for you?"

Lamar placed his hands on his hips. "Sean."

"Yes. He came here to work for you because he thought if he could just…stop that kind of thing from happening." Her voice quavered as she tried to fight the tears.

"I understand."

"No, I don't think you do." She quickly moved over to look out of one of Lamar's windows. "Sir," his secretary returned, "they want to start the press conference in two minutes."

Lamar ignored her and moved behind Lara, "Lara, John was the best cop I ever knew. And in some ways also the best man."—he sighed—"But the scars he carried around, well… I know he'd want us to honor the good things we remember about him."

She wiped her eyes.

"And I also know why he married you:" he explained, "You're as stubborn as he is."

She gave a small laugh as she turned around and slightly smiled, "Lamar—"

He quickly interrupted her, "Lara, uh, do you know how to tie one of these?"—he motioned to his bow tie and chuckled—"Could you please give me a hand? I'm all thumbs you see!" She laughed too as he turned and sat down. Moving behind him she began to tie it.

"Listen," Lamar told her, "I'll tell you what I'll do. First thing Monday, I'll have Gideon run the containment files, hmm? See if anyone drowned a woman named—what did you say her name was?"

Lara paused, her hands failing to finish the bow. "Anne Lively, but I never said she drowned." The gentle smile on Lamar's face faded, and it was soon replaced with a stern look. _Great, now she knows something's wrong_, Lamar though. He stood up, there before Lara he was clearly a head taller than her, and in that moment she saw that as old as he was, the age should not fool you. He was strong, despite his appearance, but she held her ground. He moved closer, and rolled the chair in front of him out of the way. Slowly he moved right up to her, as they stared each other in the eyes. Silence. It was broken with the sound of his secretary's high heels clicking on the wooden floor.

"Sir," she told him, "the press conference is starting."

"I'll be right there." He replied, then looked back at Lara, "We'll talk about this later. Perhaps tomorrow? I'll come by the cottage." The gentle smile returned, though now Lara could feel it was almost forced. She frowned slightly, not sure if his visit would be good or bad. She returned the smile, and slightly nodded. Then with that, Lamar left. She waited to move once he was completely gone, and turned to the white box of Anderton's belongings. The light shining through it giving a silhouette of what it contained, and clearly at the top she saw Anderton's .45.

Things became clear, and she understood everything now. She knew what she had to do.

--------------

Reporters crowded around the Willard Hotel, cameras flashing and film rolling lit up that dark Washington D.C. night. But the true excitement existed on the top floor, where applause covered the room as Lamar stepped up on to the banquet's stage. "Ladies and gentlemen, Lamar Burgess, director of the new national Precrime!" An announcer called out over the roar of clapping. The thunderous noise quieted down however, as Lamar raised his hands signaling he was about to speak. His secretary walked over to the side of the stage and handed him a present. With a smile she said, "On behalf of the staff, we would like to present you with this. Congratulations, sir."

Taking the wooden box he tenderly opens with a smile exclaiming, "My God…" A cheer rises up in the crowd as the secretary looked back out into the audience giving a small laugh. What Lamar saw in that little box was a pearl handled revolver with five bullets. "How did you get this?" he asked. "I padded your expense account for six months," she replied jokingly, which made everyone laugh.

Beaming, Lamar held the contents up for everyone to see, "Revolvers like this one were given to generals at the end of the Civil War by their troops. The cylinders were loaded with five gold-plated bullets to symbolize the end of the destruction and death that had ripped the country apart for six years. Ladies and gentlemen, with Precrime going national, maybe we can all look forward to a time when none of us will have to discharge another firearm ever again."—the audience applauded at this, and Lamar's wife, Celeste, proudly led a standing elevation—"Now enjoy yourselves! Enjoy yourselves! That's an order!"

As he stepped down off the platform Celeste came over to him and embraced him, "Does this mean we can use the lake house on weekends?" Lamar laughed, "I hope so." Though on their table, his ear piece cell phone began ringing. Over the clatter of greetings and pats on the backs Lamar's secretary answered the ear piece, plugging one ear so she could hear better. "Hello?" she said listening to the person on the other end, "Yes. Right away."—she moved over to Lamar who was swamped with people wanting autographs, interviews, opinions—"Sir? Sir, you have an emergency call on your private line."

Confused, Lamar took the ear piece and placed it to his ear. He adjusted it as he continued to move around the ballroom. "Yes, this is Burgess," he said into the receiver. The voice he heard reply, though, was not a pleasant surprise. "Hello Lamar." It was Anderton. The smile faded from Lamar's lips and he stopped dead in his tracks. There was a sinister sarcasm in Anderton's words, "I just wanted to congratulate you. You did it. You created a world without murder."

There was a tap on his shoulder as he nervously turned around. "Sir!" a man stood before him, "Everyone wants your name on a hat, can you sign these?" Taking the pen he was given he quickly began writing his signature over and over. Anderton's voice came again, "And all you had to do was kill someone to do it."

The phone rang in the Analytical room where the squadron of precops celebrated on their own. Though it wasn't much of a celebration; no one was in the mood to toast to Anderton's capture. Personally, none of them really cared what happened to Witwer. Jad spun over in his rolling chair answering the call, "A-room. Jad."

--------------

The crowd in the ballroom was wild as Lara secretly watched from a window in the outer hall. Everyone was wanting at lease one word with Lamar. She turned away as she replied into her headset, "Jad? It's Lara. John needs a favor."

--------------

"I don't know what you're talking about," Lamar told Anderton through the receiver as he began to hand the hats out to surrounding people. "I'm talking about Agatha's mother, Diana's mother, Anne Lively. Just a junkie who had a kid once and had to give her up. But, surprise, she cleaned herself up. And she wanted her daughter back, she wanted Agatha." Anderton explained.

---------------

Wally looked over as Agatha let out a deep gasp as she twitched in the Temple, back in her chair surrounded by photon milk. He rushed over to her as she tossed and turned in fright. "Jad are you getting this?" He called up to Jad in the Analytical Room. Looking up on the screen Wally saw a vision playing, the vision of a woman beside a lake, waiting for something. "It's a single stream from the female only with no time or incident data," he explained, "Whatever this is it isn't the future, it already happened."

---------------

Lamar's head spun. All these people crowding him! And that voice in his head…Anderton's voice, "You know the rest I'm sure. Not to mention what followed after Anne Lively's murder. What you did to Diana. It made such a smooth cover up to anger Witwer into shooting her, didn't it? Right after she had revealed all to both him and you. Why, you could say that you have Witwer to thank to be standing where you are now, signing autographs."

Frowning Lamar lost all focus on the chaos surrounding him. He worriedly turned about, wondering if he could find Anderton hiding in one dark corner. But he saw no one.

----------------

"Jad, what are you doing?" Evanna asked as the squadron watched him take the memory slide out of the previewing screen and placed it in his computer. The memory slide containing Agatha's vision. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. Jad, what are you doing with that?" another Precop asked. He ignored them though as he sat down and began pressing the screen buttons to transfer the data.

"What are you up to, Big Man?" one of the officers asked.

"Jad?" another moved forward, "Jad? Now let's think before you send that."

"Whoa, slow down."

But it was too late to back out now; Jad had already pressed the send button before the cop could finish his sentence.

-----------------

Immediately the screen behind the podium where Lamar had given his speech changed. Everyone turned to see a movie of some sort begin to play. It started off rather blurry, but soon came into focus. There stood a woman, her hair a dark auburn, her face worn and haggard, waiting. Smiling faces faded as silence came across the room. Everyone was soon entrapped by the silent movie, curious of its importance. Lamar was last to turn around and to his horror saw the complete vision of the murder of Anne Lively.

The haggard face soullessly stared out into the crowd from beneath her watery grave. The image backed up, it showed the masked John Doe drag her into the water, her arms and legs flailing to break free. But she wasn't strong enough. He kicked her, driving her closer to the water. "Things worked out in the end, didn't they Lamar?" Anderton came in again, "the only people who ever found out were quickly eliminated of ever causing a threat to your career. Witwer and me, we were locked up. Diana…killed."

The old man hurried out of the ball room, the small wooden box securely in his hand. He nervously looked about, making sure no one was near as he would make his getaway. Agatha was back, and Precrime could see once more. He had to be on his guard or he would hear footsteps up the stairs, a hover craft outside the window, the clickity-click of little spyders. He watched behind closed doors as the Precops quickly rushed forward grabbing the John Doe and haloing him. Anne Lively watched the future murderer be drug away with disbelief she had almost died.

Then Lamar came into the image, walking over the leave cluttered ground of the forest before the lake. Anne rushed towards him, tears in her eyes as she cried, "Where's my daughter?" Lamar took her by the arm and led her back towards the water, comfortingly patting her hand. Pointing out into the distance he told her, "She's right there."

"Where?" Anne asked ask the old man drew away from her, moving behind her. He took off his brown trench coat revealing black clothing that was exactly the same as the John Doe's.

---------------

"Run," Agatha gasped from her chamber in the Temple, "Run!!"

---------------

Anne turned around in fear only in time to see Lamar place on the black face mask. In this moment as the crowd watched a swell of gasps fell across the room, and Celeste fainted. They continued watching as the terrorized face of Anne Lively screamed for help beneath the thrashing water she was pushed under.

"There was one person you forgot about however," Lamar could sense a smile in John's face, "Lara. The one person I had told everything to."—he looked over as he heard a door open from the far side of the hall. And someone walked out, clothed in black with a black pullover, the hood covering their face. It wasn't heading for Lamar though, it was leaving. _Anderton_, he thought—"As you probably noticed she was able to piece the puzzle together once you lied about not knowing who Anne Lively is." With a malicious glint in the old man's watery eyes, he followed the hooded figure.

He followed it until he reached the kitchen. Walking in he had lost sight of it, which scared him more. Stopping by one of the kitchen shelves he opened his box, pulling out his revolver in which he placed the bullets. Anderton's voice came again, "So, what are you going to do, Lamar? What are you going to do?"

--------------

Agatha jumped in her chair, her legs flying over to the side immersing themselves in the milk as she let out a gasp. The Red Ball alarm went off. "We got a red ball!" Wally called out to the team above him in the Analytical room. The sound of the wooden ball rolling down its tube came to the squadron's ears. Every one of them jumped as it hit the bottom of the tube, and shocked they read the victim's name.

"Think about the lives that little girl has saved," Agatha said, being the voice of Lamar.

---------------

"Think about the lives that little girl has saved," Lamar said as he warily walked through the kitchen, making sure Anderton wouldn't come from behind and stab him, or anything of that sort, "Think about all the lives she will save. That little girl…could have saved Sean!" There was silence on the other line for a moment, Lamar could almost feel the anger rising in Anderton. "DON'T YOU EVER SAY HIS NAME!!" Anderton screamed into the receiver, making Lamar wince at the sudden rush of pain in that ear. But Anderton's voice wasn't heard anywhere else, just the receiver. Lamar sped up as he continued walking, the ear piece no longer attached to his ear.

----------------

"You used the memory of my dead son to set me up," Arthur spoke right behind Agatha, the voice of Anderton.

-----------------

Lamar held it at a certain distance as Anderton raged, "You used the memory of my dead son to set me up!! That was the one thing you knew that would drive me to murder."

-----------------

"What are you going to do now, Lamar?" Arthur continued.

-----------------

"What are you going to do now Lamar?" Anderton's voice softened, a sinister glint under his breath.

------------------

"How are you gonna—"

-------------------

"—shut me up?" Anderton continued. Lamar's pace had quickened even more, and the fear in the old man was rising. And then, the kitchen ended; and before him stood two tall, open glass doors. He slightly slowed down as he walked past them, paranoia surrounding him as he looked around the dark night sky on the balcony. Looking forward he could see the Washington Monument illuminated, standing proud among the dark buildings that cowered around it.

He stopped as he reached the rail, however, his old wrinkled hands firmly grasping it as he looked down into the dark void below. "Lamar, it's over," Anderton told him, his voice calmed down now, "The question to ask is, what are you gonna do now?" But Lamar didn't hear that last bit, for as Anderton said this his voice was fading into the blackness below, as Lamar threw the ear piece over the railing. And he gave a sigh of relief, hoping that was it, that Anderton was just a nightmare back from his containment.

But as he looked over the railing, the light from inside changed on his back, and he knew he wasn't alone. He spun around, and before him was a darkly clothed hooded man: Anderton. Lamar couldn't see his face, but he could tell Anderton was smiling. "John—" Lamar began but stopped as he slowly took off his hood. He saw in shock the man was completely bald, and below his thick dark brows were two grinning hazel eyes.

"Not John, I'm afraid," the man replied.

"Witwer?!" Lamar's hand fumbled in his pocket, quickly feeling cold metal.

Danny Witwer slowly moved forward. "Wasn't expecting me were you?" The cockiness and pride in his voice was sickening to Lamar, "It all adds up, though. _You_ murdered the one person I loved! You—"

"I believe _you_ were the one holding the gun as she fell to the floor," Lamar replied smugly. Witwer winced, knowing he was right. "Quit kidding yourself, Witwer," Lamar told him, "You and I are one in the same. We are both willing to kill for what we love, it's that simple."

"We are _nothing_ alike!!" Witwer cried, "All I wanted was to protect the world from a mistake, a flaw, if you will. The last thing I wanted to do was kill someone! I must say you are one smooth criminal, Lamar. But it's over now, everyone knows what you've done."—Witwer slowly pulled out his gun, and Lamar felt his heart skip a beat, he couldn't pull out his own gun in time without getting killed first—"Precrime is at an end, Lamar…and so are you, paid in full."

"Danny, please," Lamar cowered, "think about what you are doing! Does this truly justify? The precogs _can_ see—"

"Shh," Witwer replied placing a finger to his lips mocking Lamar, "Do you know what I hear? Nothing. No footsteps up the stairs, no hover craft flying up, and no clickity-click of little spyders. And do you know why I don't hear any of those things?"—he threw his gun to the ground right before Lamar—"Because I saw my future, and I chose."

Turning Witwer gave a sigh, he had done it. He had been able to walk away with his chest clear and a weight off his shoulders. He began to walk away when suddenly he felt the cold metal of a gun barrel to his bald head. There was silence for a moment, and Witwer was afraid he had made the wrong choice. "The precogs have seen this no doubt," he said unflinching.

"No doubt," Lamar replied.

"You see the dilemma don't you? If you don't kill me, the precogs were wrong and Precrime is over. If you do kill me, you go away, but it proves the system works, the precogs were right."

Witwer knew Lamar was stuck with this. He had to choose between Precrime, and his life. Lamar said nothing.

"So what are you going to do now?" Witwer asked. "What's it worth? Just one more murder… You'll rot in hell with a halo but people will still believe in Precrime. All you have to do is kill me, like they said you would."—he heard the gun cock, Witwer wet his lips—"Except, you know your own future, which means you can change it if you want to. You still have a choice, Lamar, like I did."

"Yes," Lamar replied, "I have a choice…and I've made it. Forgive me, Danny." Gunfire. Witwer's eyes grew as he jumped at the sound. But once again, there was no pain. Quickly he turned around to see a growing blood stain on Lamar's shirt as the old man slowly sunk to the ground. "Ask the others," he managed out weakly, "to forgive me too." And in that instant precops dropped from the dispenser above, only too late. Among them was Anderton, who pushed to the front to watch the man he once considered a father, die. Lamar's hand grew limp, and the pearl-handled revolver slid to the ground.

Bending down Anderton felt for a pulse, but he was gone. Despite the anger he had felt toward him, the murderer he knew he truly was, Anderton still felt sorry the kind man he once knew. It didn't seem right, and he wished it didn't have to end this way. Even Witwer felt a bit of remorse, knowing how much Diana also cared for the old man. Then the crowd from the banquet appeared, rushing forward to the scene of suicide, and Lara rushed forward embracing Anderton, tears in her eyes.

Witwer could feel his own eyes watering up as he watched Celeste frantically rush forward to her husband, fighting the man that was holding her back. She knelt down beside Lamar, and cried over him. Witwer knew the feeling, the fact that you couldn't bring someone back, even though they were still there, right there in you arms.


	10. Chapter 10: Paid in Full

**Disclaimer:** _I do not own any characters or parts from the movie "Minority Report" nor am I affiliated with the writers, directors, producers, ect. I am not making a profit from this story. I will say that I own the character Diana Warren, and that no one else can use her unless it's with my permission._

**P/L:** It is the year 2054. A so-called "pre-crime division" is working around Washington DC. Its purpose is to use the precog(nitive) potential of three genetically altered humans to prevent murders. But soon a Federal agent comes snooping around headquarters in search of flaws. Human flaws. And the main man on his list is John Anderton, a firm believer in the system, that is, before it came after him. With the help of one of his closest friends, Diana Warren, Anderton has to prove that he's innocent, even if it means that the system will be shut down. But there's a secret that's being hidden from them all, and it's right in front of them.

* * *

**Ch. 10: Paid in Full**

ANDERTON:

_In 2054, the six year Precrime experiment was abandoned. All prisoners were unconditionally pardoned and released; although police departments kept watch on many of them for years to come._

_----------------_

The rain was pouring that afternoon. Grief overwhelmed the surrounding air within the grey skies that dampened the day. All was silent in Washington, D.C., no song of birds nor the sounds of any other creature broke that solemn day. They had all gathered together, those who used to work for Precrime, almost using this funeral as a closure.

Many of them would never see each other again; it almost didn't seem right. Six years ago they thought Precrime would revolutionize the future of crime, not lead to this. The dark blue tarp shielding them kept a steady beat of the intervals of rain as they sat in foldable chairs upon the graveyard. The preacher's deep voice grew louder each time the rain hardened, and softer as it slowly let off.

Danny Witwer, however, wasn't paying attention. His eyes were fixed on the coffin. The big silver metal coffin. Tears were falling from his eyes, and he thought he could empathize with the clouds at this moment. _Oh my love, please don't cry. I'll wash my bloody hands and we'll start a new life…_Diana's last words repeated in his head. He never truly wanted to come here. The graveyard with the solemn rain brought too much pain to his mind. He still couldn't believe all that happened. What started out as an innocent inspection became the biggest story since the precogs were discovered.

And now it's over. The adrenaline has lowered, and there is no threat to mankind. But Witwer was not comforted by this. As the preacher finished his speech they all stood up. Some of the faculty left then and there, but those who were close to the deceased remained. Witwer walked over to the coffin and stared down at it, the sound of crying and sorrow filling his ears. He stood there for a while, running the past through his mind, wishing he could have done things different, wishing he could have changed—

—A hand fell onto his shoulder, a golden ring on the ring finger. Through its weight he could feel the grief that enveloped the person it belonged to. Witwer turned around; looking into his fiancé's tear filled crystal blue eyes, and embraced her. Diana buried her head in his shoulder crying softly. Witwer was careful as he held her; he didn't want to bother her sore arm supported by a sling that kept the torn tissue near her heart together where it needed to be healed. Bandages were wrapped around her upper torso above her chest, protecting the wound that Witwer, himself, caused.

"Oh God," Witwer muttered, "I can't believe I almost lost you. I don't know what I would have done without you." He tenderly kissed her on the top of her head. She pulled her head back revealing her bloodshot eyes above her blotchy cheeks. Only too soon was she brought to the medical room of Precrime. Shorty after Witwer had left Knott had discovered the slightest hint of a pulse, and when they took her to the surgery room she was half-way dead. The doctor said she would live, but if the muscles were pulled or torn again, it could be deadly. Diana was restricted of ever continuing her job as a policewoman.

She gave a weak smile, "I-I know Lamar truly was a cruel man, but I can't get past the Lamar I knew. Surely it's not completely his fault, I'd like to think that."—She glanced over at the coffin—"And then, I can't help but think of how my mother was taken from me and all I can feel is hatred. Danny, I don't know how I should feel." He returned the small smirk and rubbed her shoulders, "Well, I for sure can't tell you that. You just need to follow your heart, have a little faith, maybe."

She chuckled, a rather strange tickle that could amazingly survive in the somber atmosphere, "Faith? Isn't it a little late for that?"

Witwer realized his words had been turned on him, and Diana saw the true arrogant Witwer shine through as he straightened his posture replying, "It's never too late for faith."

And so they left together, hand in hand, stopping of course to speak to Celeste and give their respects to her once-noble husband. Witwer kindly helped Diana drape her rain coat around her and grabbed his umbrella as they began to exit the tent. But before they could walk out Diana felt a hand grab her good arm. Turning her and Witwer saw before them Anderton and Lara. She smiled coming forward and first hugged Lara, followed by Anderton, "Nice to see you again, John; especially now that we don't have to worry about a price on your head."

He smiled, though feeling rather awkward at how he should hug her back with her injury; he gently patted her on the back. "It's good to see you too, though I'm happier to see you're still alive. _Danny_"—Anderton emphasized the agent's name glancing over at his new found friend, Diana glad they had finally agreed to a first name basis—"told me everything and I have to say you had us worried sick."

"Thanks for the concern," she mused, "but you know it takes a lot more to kill Diana Warren—though I guess I should say Abigail Lively."

Anderton smiled, "It was good though, working together, wasn't it?"

She nodded, "Wouldn't trade it for the world."

"And you're sure you don't want a secretarial job at our Baltimore Police Station? I could use a person like you to manage things."

"I'm sure. You know I couldn't just sit behind a desk the whole day, John. It's all or nothing. When I've completely healed you might get a call for a squad leader, but I won't settle for less."

"But Diana," Lara broke in, "the doctor said—"

"Who cares what the doctor said? I have foresight, I think I know my limits more than some ol' quack making assumptions."

"Yeah well," Witwer butt in, "let's just remember that 'ol' quack' saved your life."

Diana rolled her eyes.

"I just want you to live as long as possible," Lara explained, "After all, I'll need someone to help me with our kid." She smiled, and Diana noticed a wedding band back on her finger.

Folding his arms Anderton nodded, "We'll see."

Lara looked over at him shocked and aggravated, "John!!"

"Come on Lara, all I'm doing is giving a possible 'if'. That's all."

Diana chuckled at their light-hearted argument. Thunder roared in the background. "Well, we better get going," Witwer turned to Diana. She nodded. "See ya John, Lara. Hopefully this won't be our last meeting."

"Oh, it won't. I'm expecting you and Danny to come up soon and stay for a little while. I won't allow you to leave me now after all that's happened. After all, where can my kids be without ever seeing their Aunt Diana and Uncle Danny?"—He turned to Witwer and they shook hands. Diana could still feel a bit of tension between them, and as long as they lived they never were able to agree on much, but they became friends. And Diana was so glad she was no longer torn between two enemies—"It's been, uh, intense working with you. You're one hell of a federal agent; I can only hope you show that much dedication in relationships. Take care of her, Danny. I'm trusting you to do that, and that's an order."

Witwer comically stiffened and saluted, "Yes sir, Chief sir!"

Anderton smiled. And for years to come, Danny kept his promise to the ex-chief of Precrime, til death did he part. They also followed through with visiting Anderton and Lara next spring, and visited many more times in the future, becoming as Anderton mentioned, family.

------------------

ANDERTON:

_Agatha and the twins were transferred to an undisclosed location. A place where they could find relief from their gifts, a place where they could live out their lives…in peace. As for Diana and Danny, they were married and moved to an isolated section of Washington D.C. next to the ocean where Diana could find peace of mind also, and Danny could remain close enough to continue his work as a federal agent_.

-----------------

The gentle ocean waves lapped softly as they repeatedly raced up the shore line, retreating back to its abode among the vast sea. It was warm that day, the sun shining merrily and the wind at bay, though it could still be felt coming from the East. Two or three seagulls hovered above the ocean, their cries mixing in with the music of the water, creating a soothing atmosphere. As Diana sat on the sand just beyond reach of the grasping waves she felt completely at ease as the water buried her bare feet in the grains of sand.

Her hands were clasped together, hugging her knees as she squinted staring blankly into the horizon. As she had predicted, her wound healed well, and she was able to remain in peak condition, though cold weather or occasional rainstorms could bring back the pain sometimes. Anderton was a little hesitant at letting her onto his force, always saying: "Let's wait one more year. Then we'll see." It had become rather frustrating really.

Diana figured though, she was young, and she had the time. So she allowed Anderton to continue procrastinating. After all, Witwer many times would allow her to travel with him on his investigations, and she had become rather good at getting information from suspects. But as she sat there that warm afternoon, when all the cares and troubles of the world were behind her, she was not thinking of her lack of a job, not her past, not Anderton, and not even Witwer. The one thing on her mind was her sister.

She would never be able to see Agatha again. Never could they reminisce on their childhood (if they could combine their memory enough to remember anything of their past), nor could her future child ever meet her true aunt. Her only sister would become a fading memory, a dream more like it. And the only thing Diana could see as she thought of her sister was the pitiful pale creature submerged in photon milk, her cold lifeless blue eyes staring dumbly at the ceiling.

Her eyes did not even falter from their fix as Witwer sat down next to her in, surprise, a white t-shirt and swimming trunks. His hair wasn't slicked back and fell messily just above his eyes. Witwer didn't speak straight off, giving his wife a few extra minutes to finish her thinking. Instead he followed her gaze and watched the horizon. He would glance over occasionally, letting her know he was waiting for her to speak, but she didn't notice.

"Do you think the sun ever wonders if it's the only star of its kind?" she spoke breaking the silence, though her eyes were still focused.

Witwer shook his head, "What?"

"For years it's been there, in that one same spot as its energy slowly fades. Never knowing anything else, never seeing anything else. Could it forget its beginning? Even though there are millions upon billions of stars surrounding it, near or far, could it forget those that have been there for its eternal life, though they have long since died out?"

A slight smile came on Witwer's face, understanding what she was getting at. He draped his arm around her shoulder. "Look at me,"—Diana slowly turned her head to peer into Witwer's hazel eyes—"Agatha will always remember you, no matter what. The same as you've been able to remember your mother. She may not be able to be here, but she will be in here," he pointed to his heart.

Diana smiled, leaning her head onto Witwer's shoulder. He looked down at her as her eyes closed, "After all, if the sun truly felt alone, who says that it wouldn't just get up and leave? All his loved ones are around him, some so far in the distance he can barely see them, but they still revolve around him."

They were silent for a while once again, when Diana replied with a smile, "I love you, Danny."

"I know," he replied.

"Hey Danny?"

"Hmm?"

"Would you like to know what will become of today?"

"Sure."

She smiled, "me too."

As Diana looked up at him, he gently kissed her. Breaking apart he held her in his eyes for a moment; it was finally all over, Precrime, Diana's gift, life had returned to normal. He chuckled, "If only, right?"


End file.
